


Blue Fire, Part I

by Kassi



Series: Blue Fire [1]
Category: Chrono Cross, Chrono Trigger, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: F/M, Romance, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-30
Updated: 2012-07-04
Packaged: 2017-11-08 21:37:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 50,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/447822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kassi/pseuds/Kassi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Schala emerges from the Lifestream with a power to heal, and Reno and Rude are assigned as escorts and bodyguards. Set during ACC.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII, Chrono Trigger, Chrono Cross, and their characters, places, and situations are (C) copyright Square Enix. They are reproduced here for non-commercial entertainment. All other material is mine.
> 
>    
> [Reno sketch](https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-_F4gaTtFcOs/UE6QCGi9hBI/AAAAAAAAFSo/4i1ZKTLCiJY/s800/Reno015.jpg) and [Schala sketch](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/--ErKL3D_pyg/UE6PrXWXv1I/AAAAAAAAFSc/t6An2hfGnTw/s800/Schala016.jpg) drawn for this story by the Amazing Amanda!  
> [Reno and Schala fanart by Kiigen](http://www.newgrounds.com/art/view/kiigen/reno-schala)  
> ['The Last Schala Mix Ever' OC remix by Brandon Strader and halc](http://youtu.be/zQKo6HDYVo8)  
> ['Turks' Theme (Band Version)' cover by Songe le Reveur](http://youtu.be/BSGX43JCa6g)

**_Schala—The Lifestream_ **

My eyes filled with pinpricks of green. I gazed up at darkness that could have been a sky, if not for lights swirling like bubbles.

Someone knelt beside me. I twisted my head with painful slowness. A smeary haze of light surrounded my visitor, a blob of brown and peach and pink and red.

“Hello there,” said a gentle voice.

“Am I dead?” I croaked.

“No,” she said with a bit of a laugh. “Why, were you trying to be?”

I shut my eyes and sighed into the surface beneath me. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Not today, I think. Why did you come here?” she said.

“I don’t even know where I am.”

“The Lifestream. Gaia. You’re… not from this world.”

I shook my head. I gave up and opened my eyes again. As I struggled to sit up she reached down to help me, more clearly in focus. We stood on a dark tiny island of indistinct land in a sea of black dotted with green fireflies. I cast my gaze around. An alien tree behind me swayed in a breeze I didn’t feel. This wasn’t the first planet the portals through time and space called Gates had brought me to, but it was by far the most boring-looking.

“What are your intentions here, on this planet?”

I looked up at her spiraling hair, her mild smile and green eyes. She seemed kind, but I’d been taken in before, and my surroundings were too eerie for me to feel truly comfortable.

“A fresh start,” I said, “or a place to die.”

“Which would you prefer?” she said.

I looked away across the darkness. It didn’t look promising for either prospect. “I don’t know.”

“You could help this world, you know.”

I laughed sharply. “I can’t help _anyone_.” Light surged in front of me, and now I saw through a watery distortion a beach. A man with black hair nestled under a red bandanna stood there, back to me, looking out to the ocean.

I hissed. The memory looked like it was really happening. Unbidden, I reached for it. As I did, it changed from the beginning of the dream to its end—the man lying wasted in bed, face grey, struggling to hold my hand as I bent over him, despairing of my powerlessness.

“Stop this!” I snarled.

“It’s not me that’s doing it,” she said, beside me. “It’s your memory. The Lifestream merely shows what you have inside you.”

“This is past. Moreover, it now never happened.” My stomach lurched as the scene reacted.

I saw myself running through the trees, toward the sound of his laughter, pulling up short and grabbing a tree for support. Watching in shock as another Schala reached him first, swung up in his arms, kissing him. A Schala who hadn’t watched him die and then sought a way to change the past so he would live again. Horrifying, unending seconds as I realized I had become orphaned, extraneous, the child of a timeline that no longer existed.

No matter how many Time Gates I sought after that, there was a Schala for every Serge I found. I belonged nowhere, no place, no life, no identity, no continuity. After losing everything but my life, I’d grown reckless with that as well.

I squirmed in shame as my past unfolded in painful vignettes in front of this total stranger. Including the pain and suffering that had come at my hands while I languished endlessly in the grip of the monster who used me to tried to destroy my world, the Time Devourer. I sighed, resigned, and turned to her. “What power I once had is long gone. I can’t help you.”

“Well, with a little help, you could,” she said, undeterred to my shock. “There’s a sickness in the world above I can’t yet do anything about while I work to heal the planet’s sickness, but if you agreed to it, you could wield the power to heal.”

I felt cold. I narrowed my eyes at her. “Who _are_ you?” _…And where were you at the point in my life when that power could have saved my love?_ I added to myself.

“I’m Aerith,” she said. “And you?”

“Schala,” I said.

“I can’t change the past, bring back what you lost—but there are people up above losing those they love. I know it’s not the same, but… you could help them,” she said.

So mild and reasonable were her words I grew suspicious. _Is she manipulating me?_ I could remember a time when I’d possessed power over Time Gates and had pushed the heroes of my world through them to defeat its biggest threat. _Perhaps turnabout is fair play_ , I thought. _And, really, what else am I going to do?_

I realized then that this Lifestream of hers had helpfully illustrated my thoughts with my memories behind me for her to see.

“What do I do?” I said.

Even before I finished speaking she whirled around and looked up. Even blacker darkness was swallowing up the little flitting lights, growing, pulsing down toward us. I stiffened. Aerith whirled and ran toward me, the light around her blinding me as she approached. I threw up my arms as I dropped into a protective crouch before the approaching powerful forces.

Pain hit me. I jarred out of consciousness.

***

I crawled up a new beach, this time under bright daylight. Every grain of sand hurt. Even the sun burned on the salt water and scratched skin. I had to pause frequently to rest. I drifted in and out of a haze like the worst drug trip in the world. I’d had more than a few, since grief set me adrift.

The waves tugged at me, sirens or mermaids come to sweetly drown me. I wanted to let them. I felt burned out and not particularly sanguine about that Aerith girl’s plan. She seemed like a hallucination now, or a fever dream.

If I’d been prone to giving up when the fight was over I’d be dead, many times over. Sometimes I had nothing but anger at monstrous fate to keep me from crawling in a cave to die. I dragged along the wet, sticky ground until I got to burning hot dry piles. I lay on my back and stared at the bleached-out sky.

 _Serge…_ I thought, without meaning to.

I felt uncomfortable, a broken doll flopped on the beach. Boiling blood seeped through me, and curiously as I let it, I felt better. Something felt cool beneath the surface of me, chilling me in the hot sun. I shivered. Renewed life eased me to sleep.

***

I woke in a clearing with no memory of what had happened to the beach. I heard what may have been the ocean or may have been the wind that ruffled through the bent tops of trees high overhead. All my clothes were in a heap on a rock in the sun. Moss molded around my prone, naked, somehow clean and painless body. I sat up, and as I did green light flickered over my skin.

I got up and got dressed, my cheeks hot, glad no one was around. Time to figure out where I was.

**_Reno—Costa del Sol_ **

It’s hard work, being me.

I mean, obviously it’s worth it. I’m worth it. I’m good, very good. I wasn’t made this way. I worked hard to get where I am.

Second in command of the Turks, under the director. Deputy Director Reno, when he’s at home. I’d never tell Tseng that, though. And I’d have to be really drunk to even tell my best friend, co-worker and subordinate Rude. I think he’d be offended, and give me that constipated you-stepped-on-my-glasses twisted-mouth look.

Look, I’m good. I never said I was perfect. Everyone’s got problems.

But not that day. That day I was catching rays, and sneaking peeks at the bombshell blond bathing beauties around me. I told myself I was shopping for who I was going to pick up at the inn’s bar that night.

_When was the last time you did that?_ I heard myself say.

My inner voice is smarmier than my outer one, and even harder to shut up, if you can believe that. Sometimes I can’t even drown it out in my head.

It had been a long couple of years. I hadn’t had a vacation since Wutai, wrapped up in all the business with Sephiroth and Meteor. Come to think of it, that wasn’t really a vacation, either. I had to rescue Elena. And the Wutai brat. Eh, what are you gonna do? That’s the price you pay for being awesome, right?

I felt mildly disturbed by the realization that, like my last vacation, I couldn’t remember when I’d had my last woman, either. Since Meteor, the president and the director had worked us pretty damn hard to coordinate shit for building Edge around the ruins of Midgar. We’d been working with the science division to shut down Mako reactors all over the world and find alternative fuels, mostly to pay for all this.

Every night I fell into a different bed, exhausted, and there were never girls in them anymore. And I was so tired I hadn’t noticed. _Fuck. I have to remedy this, immediately._

When I slitted my eyes again to scan I realized the beach was empty. I sat up, alarmed. _How long have I been drowsing?_ Then I saw the reason: a couple of beach bums had appeared, and they were clearly very sick. I watched in sympathy and disgust as one of them had a fit right there, leaking black sludge into the sand. I propped on my hands. Unlike the other vacationers who fled, I wasn’t afraid. There’s nothing I can’t defend myself against.

_It’s why I’m still alive, damn it. Survival of the angriest. Deputy Director Reno of the Turks. We get the job done. No excuses._

Law enforcement had arrived, jumped-up security from the beach resorts, and they were having a very guarded confrontation with the sick men. I rolled up to my feet and strode over.

“What seems to be the trouble?” I said laconically, tucking my thumbs in my red bathing suit.

The largest of the four guards turned and sized me up. I flashed him my teeth.

“Remember me? Reno of the Turks?” I said, a little louder. This got all their attention on me.

“Oh… yes, of course…” The plumpish dark-haired woman who seemed to be heading up this detail spread her hands in supplication. “Sorry about this, sir, we’re having trouble with some of the local transients. We’ll get them out of the area as soon as possible.”

“If you need any help…” I said, and then realized why I couldn’t remember my last vacation. Even when I was off the clock, I slept with one ear open for an opportunity or job.

I mentally cursed myself. I’m pretty vivid when I get angry, although that Barrett and Cid from AVALANCHE have me beat for frequency of swearing. I pride myself on my verbal control. Right word at the right time in the right place, you administer a takedown to your enemy’s morale to end the fight before it starts. Or jazz up a really lame fight with someone improperly motivated.

“No, sir, we have the situation well in hand.” None of them stood too near the wretchedly ill.

Something moved out of the corner of my eye and I whirled, my arm coming up. If I hadn’t left my Electro-Mag Rod under my beach blanket I would have clocked the little sneak in the face. She ducked anyway and darted forward, crouched by the man gasping and rolling in the sand.

I pivoted, frowning, keeping my stance sunk where it had gone when she appeared out of nowhere. The coastal wind had been playing merry hell with my hair and my ears. Otherwise no one should have been able to sneak up on me. At first I thought the chick with bright blue hair knelt with them in solidarity. She wore too many clothes for the beach, and I thought she was covering up some Geostigma patch as well.

She reached for them. You’d have to be sick yourself to touch someone dripping black ooze.

Even in the blinding light I saw a green glow gather at her fingertips. I didn’t see a weapon or bracer clogged with materia so I don’t know where the magic flowed from. All I know is when it touched the guy, spindles of fine green thread encircled him.

I realized it looked very like the Lifestream pouring out of the ground and smashing through the window of Shinra Headquarters two years ago. My memory flashed helpfully back to that vivid, often-recalled day. I held my breath.

Miss Overdressed-for-the-weather in a purple dress reached out her other hand to the second person, who recoiled, looking in alarm at her fellow tramp to see what was happening. The security force looked on in equal silence. I don’t think any of us knew what we were looking at, not until it was over, and even then it was difficult to comprehend.

The first bum was rising off the ground, pulling off clothes to examine now-clean arms. The second bum, seeing this, lunged and grabbed the blue-haired girl, who gasped. Green flowed out of her hands into the other poor soul. When the Geostigma signs had melted from stooge number two, the latter yanked her hands back with a whoop and went cartwheeling down the beach. As the first bum chased her, their savior dropped to her knees, head bending.

“Hey!” I said, kneeling down in the hot sand beside her. “You okay?”

She nodded, but didn’t lift her head. And then, contrary to her gesture, she fully collapsed in the sand.

“H-hey!” I said. _Maybe she does have Geostigma after all…_ I swallowed my consternation and reached for her.

**_Schala—Costa Del Sol_ **

A hiss of pain woke me. I opened my eyes to cool darkness, a stark contrast to the blinding beach I’d last seen flying up at my face. I lay on a bed, of all things. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had the pleasure of waking up on an appropriate surface. Another sucking in of breath drew my eyes to the source.

A man with a dramatic mullet so shockingly red it glowed bright even in the dim room was twisting his pale nearly-naked body round, eyes locked to a mirror on the wall. He wore a wince on rather delicate and fine features. As my eyes adjusted to the light I saw his skin was a pinker version of the color on his head.

I felt sympathetic minty coolness rise in me at the sight. I sat up and the bed creaked under me. The man’s head whipped round, epic ponytail flying while his spiky hair on top stayed put, held there by a pair of sunglasses. It reminded me of another redhead I once knew, a memory like a bleached-out photograph that faded almost as it occurred to me.

“What’s _your_ secret?” he said abruptly. “You’re just as pale-skinned as I am. Was. How come you didn’t burn?”

I shrugged, arms draped over my knees, then swung my legs off the bed and stood. I crossed the room toward him. His long, lithe body wasn’t as scrawny as it first appeared, just incredibly lean. He was toned everywhere with well-defined muscle groups, not an inch of him wasted. I felt a little more intimidated, closer up. I held out my hand.

“I’m Schala,” I said. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

He glanced down at my skin with a thoughtful scowl, then hesitantly reached out his own hand.

“Reno,” he said. “Of the Turks.”

As soon as our hands connected the coolness poured out of me, green lighting up his features and the room. He looked down, lips parted in shock. I did as well to watch the spindly threads weaving around him. A power I once would have given all of myself to possess, the power to heal.

They netted his whole body, and when the light faded he looked pale as a ghost. Except for that hair, and the matching shiny red briefs.

His eyes flicked up. “How do you… do that? What magic is that? Even mastered Heal or Cure doesn’t fix sunburn, and definitely not Geostigma.”

I released his hand, putting mine together behind my back.

“You… remind me of someone,” he said before I could answer, cocking his head at me. “What’s your last name?”

“Zeal,” I said.

“Hmm.” He eyed me. I felt uncomfortably aware I was alone with a vain straight man in his hotel room. I backed toward the door.

“Nice to meet you, Reno of the Turks, but I’ve got to be…” I gasped. I’d never seen anyone move that fast. He slammed his hand into the door to hold it shut and block my escape. I skittered further back from him, toward the window.

“We’re on the third floor,” he said. “I wouldn’t advise it, even if you do have miracle healing magic.”

“I’ve repaid your kindness,” I said. “I didn’t ask for your help and I don’t owe you sex, and if you try it I’ll make you wish you’d never been born.”

His eyebrows bounced up on his forehead. “Look, lady, I’m not…” He leaned heavily into the door with a sigh. “I’m not a rapist, okay? Shinra and the Turks have a lot to answer for, but we have some integrity. We don’t allow that kind of stuff in our organization. I just want to talk with you about that Heal magic.”

“I don’t have many answers about it. It’s something I can do, that’s all. What’s so wrong about helping the sick and injured? I helped out at a clinic, and they were grateful without needing to know how or why.”

“How many people with the stigma have you healed? And do you always pass out like that?”

“I didn’t count. More than two. And no, I don’t, but I ran out of money to buy food.”

His brows drew together in confusion. “Why don’t you charge for your services?”

“Most of the people I help don’t have any money either.”

“…Right. Realized that as soon as I asked. Sorry.” He exhaled sharply through his nose. “I’ll get dressed and buy you dinner at the bar downstairs. How does that sound?”

I hesitated, shifting from foot to foot. “I don’t know. What do you want from me?”

“Just a conversation!” He held up his hands. “Jeez, I try to be nice and get you to a cool dark room and this is the thanks I get?”

“Sorry, but I can’t be too careful about my safety. My experience lately is that people aren’t usually nice to me without expecting something I don’t want to give them in return, and their entitlement frequently turns into belligerent pressure and outright force.”

He rolled his eyes with an expressive groan. “If I’d wanted to do anything to you, why would I have waited until you were awake?”

I scowled at him. “I don’t hang around to ask my attackers why they do what they do when they do it.”

He backed off, putting his hands up. “Yeah, okay. I’ll put clothes on, all right? Will that make you feel better?”

I couldn’t stop myself looking him over one more time, but nodded. He flashed a saucy grin at me and sauntered over to a dresser piled with black and white piles of fabric.

“You know, Shinra’s been looking everywhere for some cure for Geostigma,” he said, stepping into long black slacks with grace and easy balance. “Haven’t heard of you.”

“I just got here. I was in Mideel for the past two weeks. The hospital sent me to the mainland when the island was rid of Geostigma.”

“What about before that?” He buttoned up his white dress shirt with nimble fingers, glancing over his shoulder at me.

I shrugged. “I washed up on the beach.”

His hand was in the act of landing on the remaining pile of black on the dresser. It stayed there as concerned confusion reappeared on those aquiline features. “You mean… you washed outta the Lifestream?”

“That’s what they thought at the clinic. I honestly don’t remember.”

“Huh.” He shook out a black zippered suit jacket and shrugged into it, leaving his shirt untucked. He bent to pick up his shoes and socks. I watched, fascinated, as he balanced perfectly first on one leg, then the other, to put on his shoes. The balance and musculature seemed to suggest him a fighter, and a damn agile one. I felt appreciative and apprehensive at his too-casual display.

He turned to me and gestured to the door, smirking. “Shall we?” He clearly knew just how good he was and how he looked, which I didn’t like. Confident men often don’t ask before taking, secure in their entitlement. I beat him to the door, but didn’t want my back to him, so in the hall I turned and waited for him to precede me to the stairs.

He hopped down them two at a time, long ponytail lashing on his back. “Barkeep! Table for two!” he called, holding up a pair of fingers as he reached the open main floor.

“Anywhere you like, sir,” said the barkeeper, gesturing to the nearly-empty room under thick-bladed spinning fans. A few diehards nursed at the bar.

Reno pulled a chair out for me, but I took the other one, pretending not to see. He looked disappointed. He sank into the seat across, draping himself over the back, legs splayed as he lounged. I remained sitting upright, leaned into the back of my chair, eyeing him. I envied his ease and lack of tension with his environment.

I glanced at the chalkboard menu to pick out my choice by the time the barmaid arrived to take our order. Reno ordered a daquiri. I ordered water.

“Oh, come on!” he said. “You’re in Costa Del Sol! At least a piña colada.”

I shook my head as the barmaid left.

“No alcohol? Where’s the fun in that?” he said.

I shrugged. I wasn’t looking for fun, and clearly he never stopped.

He sighed. “All right. I wouldn’t trust me either if I were a pretty girl like you.” He straightened up a little. “Listen, I know someone with Geostigma. If you help him out, he can return the favor.”

I scowled. “I don’t mind helping him, but I don’t need any help.”

“Oh?” He arched an eyebrow at me. “I heard you’re broke. We can help with that.”

“You said yourself you wouldn’t trust you if you were me. So why should I?”

“’Cause this is different. This is business. I’m a Turk. Shinra may not be as powerful as it once was but we still have connections. Not to mention money. Whatever you want, we can make it happen, or find someone who can.”

“I want to fix Geostigma. That’s all. I don’t need your help, or Shinra’s, or anyone else’s.”

“Geostigma’s a worldwide problem.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Got transportation?”

“I’ll find my way. I’ve come this far.”

Reno shook his head slowly. “Do you realize how long it’ll take you? How much ground you’ll have to cover? How many people will suffer and die while you’re slogging away? We want to fix Geostigma as much as you do, I promise you. We want this world to be better, to atone for our crimes. You may not have much reason to love Shinra, and you’re right to be apprehensive, but don’t sacrifice others’ lives ’cause you’re too proud to accept our help.”

“And in return, what am I supposed to do?”

“Just heal people, like you want to. We’ve all been looking for a cure. And you appear to be it. Come on—we’ve got airships and helicopters and ships and more chocobos than you’d ever care to shake a stick at. You won’t have to worry about money or transport.”

I peered at him, frowning.

“If you change your mind, you can always ditch us and make your own way, like you planned. What’s there to lose?”

_Safety_ , I thought. _Maybe integrity._ “We’ll see,” I said aloud.

He grinned. “Is that a yes?”

“For now.”

His grin widened, looking almost feline. “You’re a hard sell! You won’t regret it, I promise.” He shoved his hands behind his head. The food and drinks arrived, so I was spared further conversation as he wolfed down his food and I chewed mine. He kept snatching uncomfortably keen glances at me.

My heart felt anxious. I hoped I wouldn’t regret this.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Reno—Healen_ **

Well, the vacation was over—big surprise. Still, I knew I’d get massive points for being the one to bring home the prize. I was pretty damn pleased with myself, and I wouldn’t be the only one.

It still rankled how cold and withdrawn Schala was on the chopper ride to Healen. She wore the headset but pushed up the mouthpiece, skinny arms folded protectively round her as she stared out the window.

I pointed out a couple of landmarks to her on the way. She nodded, but didn’t respond or look up at me. The sunlight on her profile framed her heart-shaped face and made her purple dress glow. Long electric blue hair blocked her green eyes from me.

I fell silent, watching her. _Has to be a dye job_ , I thought, but said nothing. Too many people made that comment to me for me to do it to someone else. Not that it mattered. It was just so… blue.

“Ever met the president before?” I said nonchalantly.

She shook her head, but still didn’t look up. I was flummoxed; I figured that was a surefire way to get her cute little mouth to drop open and turn wide surprised eyes to me.

“Well, you’re gonna,” I said. “Not to mention the rest of the Turks.”

She nodded. I may as well have been talking to a wall. I sighed explosively, folded my arms and glared out the other window at the clouds. _Are we there yet?_ I thought, feeling like an executioner with his prisoner instead of a hero with a miracle to deliver.

The landing was short, uneventful. We were greeted at the pad by Elena. She looked ruffled by the wind of the landing and something else, but I didn’t really care at this point. I hopped down while the blades were still spinning down and turned to look up at my recalcitrant passenger. She descended the steps, eyes on the ground, then looked up at the rooftop pad and Elena’s icy look.

“Thought you were on vacation,” Elena said to me, ignoring the girl.

I shrugged. “Eh, well, you know. Is the president awake?”

Elena nodded. “Waiting for you. You better have a good explanation, he’s in a mood.” She glared at Schala with her chin out and spun on her heel to walk toward the access door. I rolled my eyes and followed, jerking my head at Schala.

“It’s all right,” I said in an undertone to reassure her. “Her time of the month.”

Schala flicked her eyes at me, then looked straight ahead. I guess a smile would have been too much to expect. I reflected how like a coiled spring she seemed, tense and huddled even when standing straight up. _Probably frigid, too_ , I thought. _She wouldn’t have enjoyed me anyway. Just as well._

She followed me down precipitous switchback stairs to the main floor of the lodge. I held the door for her. That much she’d let me do, it seemed. A couple of doctors and nurses were conferring in the main room. I knocked on the door to the president’s suite.

“Come in, Reno,” Rufus Shinra’s smooth voice issued from within. I opened the door and gestured for Schala to follow me in. She did so with extreme reluctance. Rufus huddled as usual in a wheelchair under an all-consuming grey sheet, the blinds drawn beside his desk. I flopped into one of the chairs across from him.

“Hi, sir,” I said. “Brought you something.” I glanced back at her.

Schala stood just inside the door, staring at Rufus. Her eyes slid to me.

“Go ahead, honey, show the president what you can do,” I encouraged.

“I believe we have not been introduced,” said Rufus, the merest hint of stiffness in his voice telling me he was severely pissed. Only intense emotion cracked that smooth political exterior.

“Of course,” I said. “Rufus Shinra, Schala Zeal. Schala Zeal, President Rufus Shinra.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” said Rufus. “Forgive me for not rising.” He extended his left hand across the desk, the one with less of the mark of the stigma on it. She stepped forward, extending her hand. I held my breath, grinning, excited.

I wasn’t disappointed. The minute her fingers touched his her hand flared with green light, pouring into him. She gripped him when he tried to pull his hand back. The walls all drank up the green glow in the dimness.

It moved under the sheet, formless, just light all over the president. It seemed intimate, beautiful. I cast my mind back on the sensations of its coolness in my body when she healed my burn, that minty tingle beneath my skin. Definitely not substitute for a good roll in the hay, but unique and shivery all the same.

The glow faded. She released him and stepped back.

Rufus withdrew his fingers, head bending as he plucked the sheet back from his once black-mottled right arm. The skin was clear, pale but healthy. He continued tugging at the sheet until it came off in a sliding flop on the floor, his sandy hair and bandaged head revealed.

He reached up, a wondering look in his one visible eye, and touched his head. He pulled off the bandage to show himself now a picture of health, all in beiges and whites and greys of his suit. He peered keenly at Schala.

“Miss Zeal,” he said, “you have a talent. Thank you, Reno, please wait outside.”

“Sir, I told her…” I began, leaning forward.

“Wait outside, Reno,” said the president, slightly less mild now, and I shoved my chair back to make haste. He didn’t seem as angry as when I’d entered, but clearly wanted privacy with his healer.

Schala looked nervously up at me as I left. I felt bad, abandoning her when she was clearly so ill at ease, but I had my orders. I leaned against the wall outside the president’s soundproofed office door and waited in silence.

The doctors had gone, and so had the unattractive nurse with the tight blond bun. Devoid of an audience I whistled. I whistle when it’s boring and there’s no one to annoy.

Fortunately I didn’t have to wait too long. My favorite cohort strode in his badass way out of the back hall. His sunglasses mirrored my hair. I took the opportunity to fiddle with the spikes, knowing he hates it when I use his fashion statement as a personal grooming tool. But when you’re me, almost everything is a grooming tool.

“Hey, partner,” I said nonchalantly. “What’s the skinny?”

Rude arched an eyebrow. “Heard you brought work home.”

“Did I?” I said.

“Have a nice trip?” he said.

I shrugged. “Well, you know… no rest for the wicked.”

He snorted. “The president wants to see us.” He gestured at the door. “After you.”

I rolled my eyes with a grin at him and opened the door, re-entering. Schala glanced over her shoulder. I was surprised to see a small smile on those pink lips of hers. It seems the president had worked his magical oratory in record time to crack the ice queen’s façade. Rude shut the door behind him.

“Ah, good,” said Rufus. “Reno, Rude, I am assigning you as escorts for Miss Zeal. She will be seeking out those blighted with Geostigma around the planet and using her skills to heal them of their illness. We will, of course, provide air travel to her during this important work. Tseng is arranging preparations now and you’ll be notified when it’s time to depart. In the interim, Miss Zeal, I invite you to make full use of our facilities here. I believe you’ll find it quite comfortable. Reno, would you show our guest around while your partner prepares for departure? I assume you are still packed from your trip.”

“Yes, sir,” I said.

Schala pushed back her chair and rose, and so did the president. My heart swelled with patriotic and personal pride at the sight. My leader was once again whole, and I was responsible for it. I smirked as they elegantly shook hands, her back straight and shoulders wide as if she was his equal.

“Thank you, Mr. President,” she said.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Zeal. Thank you again for agreeing to assist us,” said Rufus.

“Thank you for your offer of help,” said Schala. “It’s much appreciated.”

“It is fortunate our aims are the same and our resources complimentary,” said Rufus. “Please don’t hesitate to call me if you have any concerns. You have my card.”

She nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Rufus seated himself. Rude opened the door and held it for all of us to exit. I was almost out the door when Rufus called, “Oh, Reno?”

I glanced over my shoulder, a grin spreading on my face. _Here it comes._

“Good work,” he said, smiling at me.

Praise like liquid gold being poured over my body. Not a drop as a kid, but now that I’m grown, I just have to strut around being me and I get this abundance of it. “Thank you, sir.” I strolled out, basking in my own awesomeness.

**_Schala—Kalm_ **

The second helicopter trip I felt far safer, even though we’d doubled the number of strange men who could overpower me. It didn’t matter. They teased each other like schoolboys in the cockpit, friends and partners whose ease loosened me up. Reno was far more animated as well. As fun as it was to observe their interaction and expressions as they bantered, I couldn’t keep my eyes off the view.

“There’s Midgar, down to our left,” said Reno.

I slid across the cabin’s bench seat to look down at a round ruined metropolis sitting heavily in the cup of a semicircle of barren mountains. All round the circumference insectlike machinery clung and scaffoldings sprouted, a meager bandage on a deep urban wound.

“Whoa,” I said unselfconsciously into the microphone of the headset I wore.

“Yeah,” he said. “It looks even worse from the air than the pictures in the papers, huh?”

“Mm,” I said. I felt my breath taken away by the extent of both the city and its damage. Rotting towers seemed locked in a permanent sway at the center, wilted stems of twisted steel with the blossoms torn off. I shook my head to banish a useless memory of a similar scene a lifetime ago.

“Pretty big mess,” said Reno. I let out a breath I wasn’t aware I’d been holding.

“A lot of people in Edge have Geostigma,” said Rude. “That should be our next stop after Kalm.”

“No,” I said quickly. “It’s still the biggest city in the world. I can’t take on that many yet. I have to work up to it.”

“How so?” said Reno.

I looked at the bit of him I saw around the edge of his seat, uncomfortable with my inability to articulate. “Just trust me. I’ll get there, I promise.” _Or die trying_ , I added cynically to myself.

The men nodded without turning and didn’t challenge me. They clearly didn’t have any way to know what it was like for me, and were okay with that. It wasn’t their job. They returned to their silliness. I returned to my view, eyes shying away from the Midgar scar. I could feel its pull on me even awake, but knew it hungered for more than I could yet give.

_Crawl before you fly._

Kalm’s architecture was soothing, but that was the only soothing thing about it. The people there had hard mean edges to their eyes, and there were more than I expected. I suppose, it being so close to Midgar, I should have pegged it for refugee territory. Refugees have seemingly infinite hungers and pain.

I’d committed to this first stop when discussing the itinerary with Rufus Shinra, a way to circumnavigate the biggest city and end with it as my last stop, after Junon and Fort Condor. The president had so graciously provided me air travel, fuel and guards, not to mention fresh warm clothes and supplies. And Kalm would not be less mean later, I supposed.

I braced myself as I went about the streets, trying to be as discreet as I could about my healing while Rude followed and Reno arranged our rooms at the inn. Neither of them blend in. They’re Turks, and each have a very distinct presence. In theory I was safer than without them, although in practice I stood out more with a humorless well-built bodyguard.

I wasn’t prepared for the mob that swept me up when word got out what was going on. I wasn’t prepared for being physically dragged through a doorway into a house full of sick children. My head swam and my body chilled to icy depths in the darkness.

I left dizzy. I walked out the back door and looked up at a ring of burly, dirty men, with biceps big as my head. I felt the world drop away beneath my feet. The door slammed behind me. One had slipped around to block my escape. They closed, claustrophobically, shutting out hope and light.

No matter how I kicked and writhed and bit, hands clamped around me, over my mouth. These men weren’t physically sick, but inside they rotted with depersonalization. To them I was a thing, lit with bright blue hair to catch their attention.

My struggles only served to excite their sick thirst for power. My blood and bruises fed their greedy eyes. I felt my consciousness drawing away, my eyes desperate to slide closed and let my mind go so I didn’t have to be aware of what was about to happen.

“Fuckin’ _hell_! Hi- _yaa_!”

These yells from beyond the ring grounded me. Yelps of pain that weren’t mine echoed in my ears. Hands loosened on my torn clothes and aching limbs, enough that I could start to twist and fight again. I caught a glimpse of whirling red, bold and bright against the men’s brown clothes and grey and brown dirty skin. A foot lashed through the press of bodies. I was flung backward and got to fully behold Reno fighting.

He couldn’t have been more than half as big as any of those men, but with his nightstick-taser in left hand and fierce high kicks he cut a swath through them. His face twisted in fiercely concentrated anger, lips curled back, eyes bright and wide. He punched and whirled and whacked and spun. I managed to jam my elbows back into the gut of the man holding me in a bearhug. He wheezed and held tight. Reno just kept coming at them, ducking meaty punches thrown his way. Next to his speed, their fists moved iceberg-slow.

I kicked back, hit soft tissue and gained purchase. Hugger’s grasp loosened. I writhed, twisted, dropped and rolled out of the way. I spotted a break in the legs, got to my knees and pushed off from the ground into a fast, crouched run.

“Reno!” I yelled over my shoulder. I glanced back to make sure he’d heard me and ran smack into someone sturdy. I was grabbed as I spun to face my obstacle, struggling.

“Rude!” I said in relief, looking up at the bald Turk’s face. “Reno’s…” I twisted to point, but as I did I saw the fight was over. Whoever was left standing had fled. Reno stood over his groaning less-mobile victims, panting, glaring down at them. His hard eyes flicked up to mine and I reeled from the force of the remaining anger. He jumped over one of them and strode toward me and Rude.

“Let’s go,” he said tightly, grabbing my arm. I let him hurry me out of the alley, too stunned and grateful to speak. He didn’t say anything else as we hurried across the cobbled town square and through a door beneath a hanging wooden ‘Inn’ sign.

Reno hustled me upstairs, Rude tramping after us. Reno dug a key out of his pocket with his other hand and unlocked the first door off the landing. My bag sat on the duvet.

He released me. I turned to face him. His eyes had cleared of the rage, and left behind was clear apprehension.

“Does that happen a lot?” he said tensely.

“Lately, yes,” I said.

“ _Why_?” he said.

I swallowed. “Most people walk around with unfulfilled hungers. When they’re given something, it reminds them of want, of need, and fills them with the sense that they can get something from the giver. The price of being generous is having more demanded of one than one is prepared to give, or capable of giving. The more I appear to offer, the more I seem capable of giving, the more is asked of me.”

Reno put his head in his hand, tweezing the bridge of his nose. He sighed softly through his nose and looked up again. “You need to learn self-defense. Right now. Rude, here’s your key.” He dug in his pocket as he spoke and tossed a second key over his shoulder. Rude expertly caught it. “I’ll see you later, partner. Class is in session.”

Rude silently withdrew.

“Thank you,” I said quietly. I felt more than a little ashamed at being unable to defend myself.

“No wonder you’re paranoid,” said Reno, his voice softening slightly. He stepped forward, took my arms in his hands, and pulled me bodily into the first defensive stance.

**_Reno—Kalm_ **

I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling. I could hear Schala’s slow, peaceful breath of sleep. The town outside grumbled in its restlessness. They knew we were inside, which is why I was sleeping on the second bed in her room. I nearly wished Rude was there too, until I came to my senses and remembered he snores like an internal combustion engine.

Anger had gone back to sleep, but I remained awake. I knew why. I’d been in teacher-mode when I showed her basic fighting moves earlier, distracted by purpose. Now, in reflection, I remembered details of the feel of her body against mine that I’d overlooked at the time as unimportant to the task at hand.

My body wanted hers to be the task at hand. It had been a full rich day in the life of me and normally I would be off in dreamyland myself. But something else was awake and prowling in my gut: lust.

It sickened me, though. I could clearly recall the sneers on those piggy faces surrounding her when I found her in the alley. While I like to think my lust isn’t akin to their abusive power-lust, I know it comes from a similar place. I don’t like men like that. I don’t like what they do to women like her.

Men like my dad. Women like my mother.

I rolled over and silently punched the pillow, conjuring his face again. No matter how many punches I land, the most important one can never come, because the fucker is dead. And not at my hands.

My breathing slowed again, and in the darkness fear flowed in. _Don’t give me your legacy of weakness, asshole_ , I thought, throttling that ugly lust. _I am in control!_


	3. Chapter 3

**_Schala—Bone Village_ **

It was cute how they both watched over me, Reno and Rude. Especially Reno. He had some serious big-brother thing going on inside. He wouldn’t let me out of his sight.

After I made it through that first night he slept in my room I felt much more at ease with him. I tried to override the reflexive tension that flooded my body when he was training me in unarmed combat and had to touch me. He didn’t snap at me when I couldn’t loosen in his grasp, just gently shook my limbs until I could release enough to be pliable.

He tried to argue me into leaving Kalm that next morning, but I pointed out we’d just have to come back later, and better to get it over with. He clearly wasn’t happy but consented. I felt glad he didn’t seek to control my part of this mission. As grateful as I was for his protection, I would have abandoned it in a heartbeat if he told me what to do beyond the bounds of that protection.

When I turned off the shower on the morning we woke in Bone Village I heard him whistling. He whistles like a goddamn bird. I stood there, dripping, openmouthed, and just listened.

“Are you gonna take all day in there?” he called, interrupting himself. “Jeez, women!”

I grinned and dried off. It blazed through my mind for a moment that I could walk out stark naked and, if only for a moment, wipe that smirk off his face and see genuine surprise. I let the tempting idea go as I dressed. ‘Why not?’ and ‘anything goes’ had long since lost their charm from when I first let my hair down and stopped trying to live up to expectations.

I also overrode the temptation to tell him I liked him whistling. His ego didn’t need stroking and I didn’t need him showing off by whistling every moment of the day like he might if I said anything. Enjoying those few moments was enough.

Deceptively bright sunlight failed to warm me this far north. I healed the archaeologists and munitions officers stricken with Geostigma as well as chronic injuries and mis-healed limbs. The cold grew worse despite it being the relatively warmest part of the day. A cold wind blew right through me as I tried to rise, shuddering, from the pallet of a young woman.

I sank back to my knees, wincing.

“Need a hand?” said Rude, offering one.

I shook my head, took a deep breath and managed to gain my feet.

“What’s wrong?” said Reno.

“Nothing,” I said peevishly, and stepped out into even more brutal cold. I curled tighter over my frozen core.

“Take a break, if you need one,” said Reno.

I shook my head. “I want to get this over with and get out of here,” I muttered.

After the last three patients, I was shaking so bad I could not walk. I leaned on a wall, unwilling to move even though the monstrous wind slithered along the building.

“Are you cold?” said Reno.

I nodded.

“Damn, why didn’t you say so? Here.” He whipped off his jacket and brought it around in front of my face. I recoiled from his grin. Something about this was all too much. Bad enough I needed his protection and his teaching. I didn’t want his body warmth and clothing. The idea made my skin crawl with apprehension.

“I’m fine,” I said through grinned teeth.

He snorted. “Yeah right. Come on, it’s gonna be even colder in the next town. They don’t call it ‘Icicle Inn’ for nothing, you know.”

I scowled and took the jacket, struggling into it. “Doing what I do makes me cold,” I said defensively. “The more I do it, the colder I get.”

“Damn, you’re gonna be screwed when we get to Edge!” said Reno. “I’ll call ahead now and tell them to start making more blankets.” I glared at him and he had the audacity to laugh.

“You think this is easy? You do it, then,” I snapped, wrapping his jacket tight around me and heading for the path back to the chopper.

“Hey, whoa, calm down,” he said, trotting after me. “I’m not making fun of you.”

“Yes, you are,” I growled.

“Look, I know this isn’t easy,” he said. “I’m trying to make it less of a drag, okay? Don’t get your feathers in a ruff.”

Rude wisely held his tongue throughout this.

“I don’t need you as much as you think I do,” I said. “You may be hot shit, but I got along just fine before I met you.”

“Oh, right,” Reno snorted. “Except for that little problem with people trying to rape you.”

“They never succeeded!” I snapped.

“Really? ’Cause they came pretty damn close in Kalm! If I hadn’t gotten there in time I doubt you’d still have that spotless record!”

I stopped and rounded on him. “That doesn’t make you better than me! No matter how many types of awesome you think you are, I can still do something you can’t!”

“So what? I don’t want to do what you do! I’m quite happy with who I am, thank you very much!”

“That’s abundantly clear!”

He suddenly turned condescending and paternal. “I’m no stranger to jealousy, you know. I don’t blame you for envying my fighting skill.”

That supercilious sneer was too much. I hauled off and punched him. He reeled, gaping, and I got to see that desired shock on his face. I felt pretty shocked myself, fist stinging, that I’d been able to land a punch. He really must have thought me defenseless. He reached up to his cheek.

I felt guilty, but still angry, and breathed hard through my nose.

“You wanna do this?” he said, tossing aside his Electro-Mag Rod. “Fine. Let’s do this. Come at me.” He planted his feet.

I didn’t want to do it, but I’d come too far. I figured this was it, my chance to get some of my own back. I flung off his jacket and squared my shoulders. He just stood there, waiting.

“Come at me, I said!” he snarled.

I raked my eyes down him, broadcasting disdain. I’d seen it often enough growing up I knew just how to play it. “You’re not worth it.” I turned as if to walk away. I heard him move behind me. I ducked and spun just as he reached me, catching him with an elbow to the ribs. The air rushed out of him in a stuttering gasp. I slammed my fist up into his chin. He grappled me and bore me to the ground, rolling me under him. He pinned me, glaring down at me.

I spat in his eye. He reeled, incensed.

“If you were wearing your sunglasses over your eyes like a normal person, like Rude, instead of up on your head, that wouldn’t have worked!” I snapped.

His eyebrows lifted, and he went from enraged to surprised. “…What?” He sat back on his heels, still straddling me, and reached up to wipe his eye. He laughed in disbelief. “ _What_ did you say?”

“I said, get off me before I knee you in the balls,” I said.

“I’d like to see you try!” he taunted.

Two seconds later, he was rolling on the ground, howling. I sat crosslegged beside him, brushing dirt off the back of my purple shirt.

“I told you: I’ve never been raped,” I said. “Men who think they’re in control notoriously leave one spot vulnerable.” I reached out and laid a hand on his chest. I felt a rush of cold shock through me. I bent my head, shuddering as healing poured out of me into him. His gasps of pain faded. He lay breathing on the ground. I pulled back into myself, shivering.

Rude strode up to us. “If you kids are finished, I’d like to get out of here before next week.”

“Why, got a hot date?” teased Reno, rolling up to his feet with practiced ease. “C’mon, Scha.” He reached down to me. I glanced up at him and saw him grinning, no hint of malice on his face. I struggled to stand on my own.

“Oh, jeez, really? Still?” He sighed and strode over to snatch up his jacket, then hurled it at me with all the dirt it had accrued. I growled and wiped off my face. He strode off down the path, leaving me with it. I was too cold not to put it on. I felt ashamed and weak.

Rude and Reno were bantering again as I seethed and shivered. When we reached the helicopter, rather than climb up front Reno entered the cabin with me. I leaned away as he sat down next to me and fastened his straps. Engines whined to life. Ground dropped away. Reno shifted closer to me and put an arm around me. I tensed, trying to pull away. He reached up, pulled the headphone from my ear, and pushed his lips in its place.

“I hate needing help too,” he said. “It’s okay. We’re a team. I know I’m not better than you. I’m not worse either.” He let go, and the headphone thocked back over my ear. I unclenched my muscles as much as I could and shut my eyes, letting him hold me and rub my arms to keep me warm.

_Oh, no…_ I thought as the dismay of realization hit me. _That’s why I’m angry. I’m afraid._ I tingled at the pressure of his touch. _I’m not resisting the embrace—I’m resisting leaning into him._

**_Reno—Icicle Inn_ **

I’d gotten Schala all the blankets I could harass out of the inn staff. It was too bad everyone else there craved them too, buried in snow. We got there early enough she could still heal several of the town’s sickest, but night falls early in the far north. Maybe that was for the best. She looked awful when we rolled in to settle for the night.

I’m not mad about the cold, but I wasn’t going through what she was. As I fell asleep my memory drifted over that familiar stricken look over her face at the end of each healing session. It had looked like pain more than weariness. That’s what it was, too: unbearably painful cold.

“Reno.”

I roused at her gentle whisper, tangled in sheets and dreams. “Mmph?”

“Please, can I crawl in? I can’t get warm.”

“Mmmsure.” I shifted, sleepily trying to tug the covers back. My effort didn’t matter. She was motivated. I felt her burrowing in and let unconsciousness roll back over me.

In the morning I woke at first icy blue light, my eyes slamming open. She was curled around my bare torso, her arms folded behind me, legs twisted with mine, head dipped to my chest. I breathed out, not daring to look down at her.

I don’t wake up with women. Not since I was young and stupid, before I realized that sacking out with girls after sex gave them the impression that they had some kind of hold over you. The only way to get free of the post-coital spiderweb before getting stuck was to dress and leave as quickly as possible.

I had an arsenal of well-rehearsed excuses. I had my routine down pat. The earlier in the day I could seduce, the better, because then it was always, ‘ _I have to get back to work, doll, call you later_ ,’ forehead kiss and exit.

I felt trapped, ensnared. Every part of me screamed, _Wrong!_ I couldn’t even form coherent thought under the weight of panic.

I bit my lip, trying to ease her sleep-heavy arms from around me and disentangle us. I crawled out of bed into the icy slap of the chill air. I went for my clothes and distracted myself with dressing, my back to her.

Once fully clothed I glanced back. She slept soundly. I strode silently to the window and looked out at a blank little town half-buried in a snowdrift as she was buried in covers. I leaned my head against the wall. The glass radiated cold on my forehead.

_What the fuck is wrong with me?_ I wondered. _She’s too fucking complicated. I hate what she’s doing to me._

I went downstairs for a surly cup of tea as soon as the bar opened. I watched the milk swirl and turn everything opaque. Someone sat down across from me. I didn’t even have to look up, chin in my hand.

“I can’t wait until this fucking mission is over,” I said.

Rude sipped his tea.

I looked up at him. “What?” I said.

He shook his head, eyes invisible behind those shades, as pointless in the dim room as mine were on my forehead in the bright sun.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” I snarled. “It’s too early in the day for this.”

“Turned you down, did she?” he said.

“No!” I yelled. My face flushed as I realized we weren’t alone in the room, and everyone had turned to look at me. I glared daggers at a grey-haired woman at the next table. She stared pointedly into her granola. I relented, drinking my tea, aware of Rude’s gaze on me despite the glasses.

“Man, you are losin’ it,” he said.

“I know,” I muttered. “I hate her.”

“Hmm,” he said.

I sharpened my gaze on him. “What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“It means ‘shut up.’”

I laughed. “Ohhh! I’ve been wondering about that bit of Rude-code for _years_ , man! You should’ve just said!”

“ _Hmm_.” He leaned his head forward, peering over the top of his sunglasses at me with the ‘don’t-push-it’ look. I settled back in my chair, grateful for the distraction. Our silence became companionable, my anger defused.

After breakfast I felt good enough to go back upstairs for a bracing hot shower and to restore my hair to its proper awesomeness. I reached for the handle of the door and it popped open, Schala standing there, wrapped in a quilt. She looked up at me, startled. A smile burst out of her.

I almost fell against the doorframe, struck to the core by that look of happiness I’d inspired.

“Good morning,” she said. “Thank you for keeping me warm. I couldn’t have gotten through the night without you.”

I manufactured a smirk. “Of course you couldn’t,” I said, trying to be suave and coming off awkward and lame. She didn’t even seem to notice. She squeezed past me into the hall and headed for the stairs.

I turned to watch her go, something tugging in me like she’d gotten a hook in my ribs and was pulling me after her. Her praise should have had me preening. Instead it had undone me.

_I hate you…_ I tried to think, but my heart wasn’t in it. My heart was MIA. So it was more like: _I hate you…?_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ['A Foray into the Eastern Horizons' -- OC Remix of 'Wutai' and 'Schala's Theme' by mv](http://youtu.be/BDLUdo3zgIk)

**_Schala—Wutai_ **

The ocean rolled by beneath the chopper, getting less icy-dark by the moment. Reno and Rude were strangely silent. I didn’t mind, I was just thrilled to be leaving the snow behind. I closed my eyes, letting the nightmare of cold leach out of my thoughts. I felt like I’d been brought to a standstill, desperate in the frozen night.

Sullenness flowed out of me as well. Every moment that passed was another between me and the memory of the pain that had driven me to seek warmth in the bed of a man I’d physically beaten to a fetal position less than a day prior.

Cold made me selfish, angry and raw, even more than usual. Helplessness did the same, and together they’d almost destroyed me.

_I hope Wutai will be warmer, a lot warmer. I miss Mideel and Costa del Sol. Maybe I can live there, when this is all over. But what will I do? Work in a clinic? I imagine I’ll lose this power once Geostigma is gone._

I sighed to myself, opening my eyes to look out at the rippled blue. _Is there even a place for me in this world?_

Wutai was indeed warmer, though not as warm as I would have liked. What they lacked in physical warmth they made up for in tea. It was hot, fresh, perfectly-steeped and seemed to be never-ending. It revived me enough to begin healing people shortly after arrival.

I don’t think I realized from the map that Wutai is an island nation, and more populated with small villages than I expected. I felt a bit overwhelmed as people appeared out of the glossy woodwork and from beneath branches weighted with white blossoms.

Yet they continued to bring me tea, and were always bowing to me. I got flustered and confused; it had been such a long time since I’d experienced such deference. When I started shaking, gorgeous blue and red silk duvets embroidered with peacocks and mountains and trees were brought. Voices were kept low but eyes brimmed with emotion as the families of those I healed all bowed to me.

The only ones in the village not subdued were the children that frisked and played in excitement at having their illness lifted. They followed me around, sometimes shrieking in delight at the green tendrils coming out of my hands. Some of the smaller ones would lunge and grab at them, declare loudly, “I got one!” and then run off to inspect their prize, only to find it gone.

They also seemed utterly fascinated with the two Turks in their midst, much to the chagrin of Reno and Rude. They swung on Reno’s hands and tugged on Rude’s pantlegs. Halfway through the day I looked up at shrieking laughter to see Rude hoisting a tiny little girl high and spinning her round and round. She was beaming in utter joy.

A boy and a girl were batting at Reno’s trailing ponytail as he whirled around in a crouch, playfully growling as he pretended to try to catch them. They giggled and gabbled to each other in their native tongue. The woman I was healing laughed. I looked down into her almond-shaped brown eyes, glittering with reflections of green as life flowed in.

“What are they saying?” I said. “Lie-rand?”

“It means ‘fox,’” she said.

I glanced up at Reno again, openmouthed. His slinky-sly moves, his long body, that crazy red tail and spikes round his ears, his elongated jawline—I saw it all in a flash as if through a child’s eyes.

“Lyrant!” I whispered under my breath, and turned back to the woman with a grin. “Lyrant. They are right!”

No one grabbed at me or even touched me without first asking permission. Tea, coats, blankets, little savory bits of vegetables and fish rolled up in rice and seaweed came as constant offerings to all three of us as we traversed the village. We were told that the leader, Godo, wished to serve us dinner that evening in his home and host us as his personal guests.

I felt so cared for and comforted and happy I could ignore the cold and weakness in my limbs. The sun was setting over Da Chao, the sacred mountain to the west, in a fiery display that colored all the drifting flowers pink. I inhaled deeply of the scent as we crossed the beautiful arch of a bridge.

My ears suddenly started ringing, my stomach churned and darkness occluded my vision. I grabbed for the railing and clung to it so I wouldn’t fall. A hand was instantly on my back.

“Are you okay?” said Reno.

I lifted my head, blinking to clear my eyes. At first all I could see was that outrageous red hairdo. I giggled, composed myself. “I’m fine, Lyrant.”

“Excuse me?” he said. I saw his frowning expression.

“It means ‘fox,’” I said. “I heard the kids calling you ‘Lyrant’ earlier and asked.”

He laughed. “‘Fox’?” 

I reached for his hair and tugged on it, grinning.

“Ow, hey!” he said, and grabbed a handful of my hair to tug as well. That, for some reason, made me tug harder. “What’s the Wutain word for ‘bitch,’ huh? Huh?”

“You’ll have to ask them!” I said, relenting. “Go ahead, I think you might scandalize some poor young woman into a swoon. They seem… repressed here.”

He slid an arm around me to support me as I let go of the bridge. “Yeah, the war kinda left a lasting impression here. I mean, they were always caste-driven, but since Shinra defeated them they’re practically enslaving themselves to anyone and everyone.”

“That’s quite a shame,” I said. “It’s unfortunate that this is the first place anyone’s been nice to us and it’s because they’re an island nation of… well… doormats, I suppose. I wish there was a nicer way to put it.”

“Yeah.”

Across the bridge, I moved toward the next house with a pull to it. Reno tightened his arm around me.

“Hey,” he said. “Maybe that’s enough for today. Save some energy for practice.”

I glanced up at his tightly focused eyes, initially incredulous he thought I would be able to muster strength for fighting practice later. My unease at my own weakness gave way to resignation as I nodded. He addressed himself to the young man approaching.

“She needs to rest,” said Reno. “We’ll continue tomorrow.”

The young man bowed quite low. “Thank you, Mr. Reno. This way, please.”

**_Reno—Wutai_ **

They looked like silk pajamas. At least they were black. I didn’t mind going barefoot. Rude looked like he was undergoing ritual torture to be out of that pristine suit of his. He sat against the wall in Godo’s living room, back to the wall, stiffly drinking tea out of a little turquoise cup. I lounged comfortably on a pillow, arm draped over my black-silk-covered knee.

“Try not to have too much fun,” I needled my partner.

He still wore his sunglasses, like a last vestige of armor in hostile territory. I grinned at him in what I calculated to be my most irritating way specific to him.

The bamboo-screen door slid open and Godo entered, dressed in bright red silk brocade formal robes that looked like a woman’s fancy dress, hair in a topknot. _How do they keep genders straight here?_ I wondered, saluting the leader of Wutai. _I guess girls never look you in the eye. Except for that thieving daughter of his._

“Greetings, gentlemen. My apologies for keeping you waiting,” said Godo. He knelt by the low table on a velvet cushion to begin preparing a second pot of tea for us. “I hope your stay here will be most satisfactory. My housemaidens are tending to Miss Zeal. When she joins us, dinner will be served.”

“Thanks, Godo,” I said, returning to my sprawl of comfort.

“Your people have been accommodating, to say the least,” added Rude.

“It is the least expression of our eternal gratitude for the miracle you have brought us,” said Godo.

The screen slid back again. Godo swiveled and I looked up.

Schala looked like she had had some very refreshing primping. She fairly glowed in a curve-hugging shiny pink cheongsam slit up the sides. Her hair had been pinned and wound around bunches of white cherry blossoms. Her pale face had been powdered, her lips darkened, eyes lined.

I whistled. I couldn’t help it. Even through the powder I saw her blush, and grinned in satisfaction.

She slipped into the room and shut the door behind her. Godo rose, and Rude and I did as well, and as one we bowed to her. She bowed in return.

“Miss Zeal, you honor us with your presence,” said Godo.

“I am honored to be here, Mr. Kisaragi,” she said. “Please forgive me for my ignorance of your culture’s customs.”

“There is no need to apologize,” he assured her. “Please, have a seat.” He gestured to the blue velvet cushion at the head of the table. She strode forward and knelt. We resumed our seats.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Her appearance was unsettling, to say the least. _Made up like a Honey Bee whore_ , I thought, but I felt more disturbed than malicious.

In my early years in the Turks, I’d spent quite a bit of time in Wall Market, sometimes at the Honey Bee and sometimes picking up girls outside who didn’t make the cut or had no self-worth. It was like shooting fish in a barrel, though. Once the shine had worn off the big city I moved on to fishing for higher-class women. I didn’t have to pay, it was more of a challenge and a triumph to score. However most wanted me to stick around after, and for me the game was over.

This girl had clearly put herself out of the league. She didn’t play, and clearly had a past. It’s not like I hadn’t encountered that before. I stayed away from vengeful eyes and huddled forms. You might as well prod a tiger in its cage, or steal all Rude’s pairs of shades while he’s sleeping—if you’re really masochistic.

But now Schala had the warpaint on, wore a team uniform of sexy ladies everywhere, and it woke up the hunger in me.

_Didn’t we already go through this?_ I berated myself, staring resentfully at her over my tea. _She knows she’s not that kind of a girl, so why is she doing this to me? How can she justify looking like that around me when she can’t and won’t deliver? Fucking tease._ I tried once more to work up a really good froth of hate at her. Then she did the most cruel thing of all—she looked up at me and smiled secretively.

I wanted to look away but couldn’t. _God, that curving of her lips is like a drug. More, please…_

I imagined lunging across the table, grabbing her face and forcing her mouth to mine, smearing that perfect lipstick, drinking her up. The shocked look on Rude’s face, the horrified one on Godo’s. The betrayed one on hers. I let the dangerous little daydream fizzle and released my breath, unclenching my fingers from my cup as if I’d been anchoring myself to it to prevent such an attack from really happening.

I’d had such a great day, too. My job was a breeze in Wutai. Without having to worry about her safety, I had a blast, and at the end of the day I was still full of piss and vinegar. And tea. Enough caffeine and sugar to practically replace a Mako reactor. I needed to burn off all this excess friskiness somehow. When I felt like this, my only options were fighting or fucking.

With the women around here so docile and unable to refuse, fucking was out of the question. There’s shooting fish in a barrel, and then there’s having sex with a woman who doesn’t move a muscle or even look at you. I’m not into sex where I don’t know if she even wants it. That shit scares me.

Wutai’s got quite the facilities for fighting, though. Probably because the sex is so unfulfilling and they’re all so repressed. This culture developed the martial arts I myself practice.

“Is there an all-night dojo around here?” I wondered aloud. I realized I’d just interrupted Rude and Godo and Schala, whose conversation I’d inadvertently tuned out.

“I am afraid not, sir,” said Godo.

Schala grinned. “I’m told the moon will be full tonight. We can practice outside.”

I blinked at her in confusion for a moment, then remembered like a spike of hot lead down my spine that she hadn’t had her fighting lesson that day. I eyed her, frantic to cover whatever it was I felt in response. “Not in _that_ dress.”

“No, of course not.” She addressed herself to our host again. “Mr. Kisaragi, Reno has been teaching me to defend myself.”

“I would be happy to provide you practice clothing, and any practice weaponry you require,” said Godo.

“You are most kind,” she said.

“Whatever you require, you only need ask,” said Godo.

My thoughts raced as their voices faded out again. _Training. …Right._ I felt eyes on me from across the table and looked up at Rude. I saw consternation in the set of his mouth.

_What?!_ I thought peevishly, but did not say. My eyes slid away, unfortunately settling on Schala again.

_Why do you have to be so damn cute?_ I thought.

**_Schala—Wutai_ **

They’d given me black velvet. Where Reno’s suit of silk reflected the moonlight, mine drank it. We strolled across the bridge and out to a clearing away from the houses.

“Where are you from, originally?” he said as we walked.

“I grew up on an island, far from here,” I said. “In… in a city devoted to knowledge and science.”

“Sounds boring,” he said.

“I suppose,” I said. “I’ve been so many places since then, all so very different to one another. What about you? I don’t even know your last name.”

His silence lasted longer than I expected.

“Do you have one?” I said.

He snorted. “Yeah. It’s Sinclair.”

“Rough childhood, huh?”

“Ain’t everyone’s?” His ease sounded strained.

I shrugged. “For what it’s worth, Lyrant, I think you’re a good man.” I glanced at him and found his icy blue eyes staring at me.

He looked surprised, but covered quickly. “Of course. Glad you finally noticed.” He stopped in his tracks, and I did as well. He stretched his arms up over his head, then out to the sides, sinking into an initial stance.

I squared off against him, grounding my feet. Blossoms, glowing unearthly in the moonlight, broke free of the branches and drifted on the breeze around us. The beauty of the place felt overpowering, teeming with life. I shivered in the wind. I hoped practice would warm me.

“Okay, Bami, try to keep up,” he said.

“‘Bami’?” I said.

He grinned. “Wutain for ‘bitch.’”

I grinned back. _I don’t know how you did it, but you can outfox everyone, can’t you?_

His normal lazy, testing start gave way. He came at me possessed with vigor. Fortunately the panacea of the place had been working on me too. I gave back as good as I got, pivoting, circling, blocking. Everything went right, every move better even than I intended. He sensed this and sped up. I felt invigorated, waking up to the night.

All the moves he’d been showing me flowed together. They suggested new ones to fill in the gaps in my knowledge. He didn’t say anything, no guidance, no taunting to give him an edge. His hard eyes stayed locked on me as he spun and kicked and punched, nearly as magnificent as that first time I saw him fight in Kalm. Now I was on the receiving end, arms and legs and fists and feet connecting but not harming. Like a dance.

I never quite warmed up as much as I expected, but the thrill of the fight kept me wholly occupied. He grew more ambitious in his combat and ever-faster. I couldn’t believe how I held my own against him. Something had clicked on in me. All the awkward, clumsy rehearsals of movement turned into a flow as profound as the green light.

He managed to grapple me and I managed to throw him. He tucked, rolled, sprang to his feet with amazing speed and came at me again. He lashed out to kick away my legs and without really thinking, I backflipped. He rushed me as I landed and the heel of his hand smacked right in my face. I was knocked sprawling, dazed, sparks in my vision.

He stood over me, panting. “Shit, sorry. I got carried away.” He dropped to his knees beside me, wincing and contrite-looking.

I reached up to my poor nose and felt hot liquid gushing from it. Cool green poured forth from my fingers to ease the pain and stop the blood.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

I shook my head, hand remaining where it was. “I’m flattered you thought I could take that punch. Your confidence in my ability to defend is overwhelming.”

“Yeah, you suddenly got a whole lot better.” He sank back on his heels, still looking concerned. “What happened?”

I sat up, removing my hand, and shivered. “I don’t know. It just… felt right. I got into a flow.”

He grinned again. “Don’t you love it when that happens? For me, that’s any day ending in ‘y.’” He stood up and offered me a hand.

I grasped his fingers and allowed him to pull me up. “Naturally.” I shivered again, harder.

“You’re _still_ cold? After all that? Man, there’s something messed up about you.” He put an arm around me and rubbed my biceps vigorously, steering me back toward the river.

I laughed. “That much is obvious. I hang around _you_.”

“That just shows you have taste. But you also hang out with that creepy bald guy who’s always wearing sunglasses. What do you think is up with that, huh?”

“Eyes are the windows to the soul. Rude doesn’t want anyone telling what he’s thinking. Or feeling. Now, you…”

“Oh, this oughta be good!”

“…You seem to wear your heart on your sleeve but it’s just an act, isn’t it? You talk big to try to hide feelings nearly as big.” I glanced at him, because he didn’t hit me with a snappy comeback. He stared straight ahead, nearly glaring daggers at the middle distance.

“And what about you?” he said tersely.

I owed him for what I’d just said, and bled a little through my words. “I make a big show of my honesty and openness to disguise a desperate painful past. We all hide what we want to hide in different ways.”

“Oh, yeah? What are your secrets?”

I laughed. “You’re a terrible interrogator!”

He gave me a sly look as we strolled through the sleeping town. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” He still had his arm around me. Half of me minded, in fear of the half of me that really, really didn’t.

We prepared for sleep on the mats Godo had laid out for us in one of the spare rooms. The paper-thin walls did nothing to mask the sound of Rude snoring next door. A pile of blankets lay beside my pallet.

“Hey,” said Reno. “You gonna be warm enough?”

“I hope so,” I said, spreading them all out one at a time.

“’Cause despite my natural fantastic looks, I need my beauty sleep,” he said. “I don’t want to be woken up in the night if you change your mind, Bami.”

I swiveled on my heel to look over my shoulder, but his back was to me as he made his bed. I couldn’t quite read his voice. He sounded tense, but for what reasons, I didn’t know.

“That’s very sweet of you,” I said carefully. “You don’t have to offer, you know.”

“Well, don’t say I didn’t ask.” His voice definitely grew tighter. He crawled in, head still turned away, and turned on his side facing away from me. “Get the light, wouldya?”

I flicked it off and quietly crawled into bed. I didn’t know what to think. Maybe I’d talked too much, hit too close to home. Home didn’t seem to be a place he fancied. His mercurial moods, the opposition of how he sounded and how he appeared to feel both bewildered and enthralled me.

As I tried to sleep, I shivered not from the cold but from the memory of our bodies fighting, connecting, taking cues from each other in a give-and-take of epic wonder. I remembered the way he’d cradled me to his body heat at Icicle Inn. I wished I’d had the nerve to take him up on his offer, but it seemed too begrudging or at the very least emotion-packed.

_Who knows what evil lurks in the heart of Lyrant?_

***

In the morning Reno snored right through me getting up. Though it was obscenely early, I felt refreshed and happy to still be in Wutai. From the weakness of the pull of the place on my senses, I suspected we’d be leaving all too soon. I wanted to enjoy as much of the time as I could.

I found Rude sitting crosslegged, alone at the table, having breakfast. Wearing sunglasses. Pale dawn light slanted through the windows looking on a fish-filled pond in the courtyard garden.

“May I join you?” I said.

“Please.” He gestured across the table. As I sat down, he poured out tea for me.

“Thank you,” I said, taking the cup from him. A smile quirked the corner of his mouth.

I leaned over to sniff the steam off the sweet rice pudding in evidence, but reached for an apricot to eat.

Though I couldn’t see his eyes, I felt him watching me in the way he held his head still while he ate with chopsticks. He wasn’t used to them, and in his distraction spilled rice down his front. He hissed something inaudible and sharp under his breath and picked up a napkin to dab off the rice.

The apricot I ate was threatening to dribble juice, so I held the napkin up to my chin while I finished, and put the stone in the folds of cloth. Rude, his black suit cleaned off as much as possible, resumed eating with more care. It was so quiet I could hear a fish splash outside. I sipped my delicate flowered tea.

Rude set down his pudding and chopsticks. “You don’t talk much, do you?”

I almost spit out my tea. I managed to swallow, coughing and laughing and gasping for breath. I looked up, my face flushed hot with effort, and saw Rude grinning at me.

I giggled as I calmed, fanning myself. “Ohh, Rude. That may be the funniest damn thing I’ve heard you say. You really save your words to pack a punch, don’t you?”

He shrugged, still smiling, and picked a grain of rice off his sleeve.

I shook my head with a happy sigh. I watched him over the rim of my cup for a thoughtful sip. “You’ve worked with Reno for a long time, haven’t you?”

“Eight years,” said Rude.

“It shows. You’ve got a strong working friendship.”

“Do you have any? Friends, that is?”

“I used to, far away and long ago.”

“What happened?”

I chewed my lip. _So many things… but really only one that drove me away for good._ I gave him the best answer I could manage. “My husband died, and I left. Haven’t settled since.”

Rude froze again, like a statue. I looked down at my tea, wondering if I’d been foolish to share. His movement attracted my attention. He was taking off his sunglasses. My jaw dropped. Without those glasses his eyes were all too easy to read—deep, dark brown and full of sympathy.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, holding my gaze.

“Th-thank you,” I said, taken aback. “It was a long time ago.” I drained my cup. “I’m going to go for a walk. Would you care to join me?”

He nodded, rising, and put his glasses back on. The velvet slippers I’d been given waited at the door. I slipped into them while Rude sat on the floor and put on his dress socks and boots. I watched him.

“Your partner does that standing on one leg at a time,” I said.

He gave a long-suffering sigh. “He enjoys showing off for pretty young women.”

I flushed hotly and looked away. “Oh. I… I just thought he… shows off in general.”

“He does. But he goes out of his way to impress you in particular.”

Hearing Rude rising I pushed out the front door, suddenly desperate for fresh air. I didn’t look back at him but strode off for the river. We walked in silence to the nearest bridge.

I stopped halfway across to climb up on the railing and lean out, watching leaves and petals and sticks being carried in the current. I commiserated with their inexorable path.

“Do you like Reno?” said Rude, climbing up beside me.

I shrugged, feeling a childlike embarrassment rush through me. “Not as much as he does,” I heard myself say. _Damn, I’m picking up your bad habits, Lyrant—deflecting with humor._

Rude snorted. “That would be impossible. No one likes him as much as he likes himself.”

_And it’s not true_ , I realized sadly. _He’s such a show-off because he’s desperate to be liked. No one who really likes themselves as much as he seems to has as much insecurity as I see in Reno’s eyes._ I sighed.

“It doesn’t mean he can’t like anyone else,” said Rude. “He may not show it, but he cares.”

“I know,” I mumbled, anxious to change the subject. “Rude, what’s your last name?”

He fell silent. After a long moment, he asked, “Why do you ask?”

“I want to know more about you.”

“Why?”

I looked over at him with a grin. “Why not?”

I glanced around until I spotted a pair of sticks, one straight, one crooked. I hopped down and went to retrieve them, then returned to Rude. I brandished them.

“Let’s play a game,” I said. “We drop these in the river at the same time. Whoever’s stick emerges last, that person has to answer a personal question of the other’s choice. Okay?”

A smile spread on his features, and he selected the straight stick from my hand. We leaned over the rail.

“On the count of three,” I said. “One… two… _three_.” We dropped. I rushed to the other side, Rude behind me. We leaned out to watch, anticipating, scanning.

I whooped in triumph as the gnarled twig appeared. I turned to Rude, grinning. “So what’s your last name, oh Rude of the Turks?”

“Prevost,” he said, turning away. I moved to follow him, but he was scanning the ground. He strode a short distance away, bent down, and when he rose and turned around he had two more sticks and a fresh grin.

He lost the game again. “Where did you grow up?” I asked.

“Costa del Sol,” he said, scowling as he looked for more sticks. After the third time he lost he came back with a whole handful and a look of fierce determination. He clearly wanted to win. I was happy he promptly answered my every question about his past as I continued my winning streak. By the time his ramrod-straight stick edged mine out that final time, I knew almost his entire personal history.

“ _Yesss_!” he hissed under his breath, jerking his clenched fist in toward himself in a victory celebration. He straightened to his full imposing height, cleared his throat, and reached up to adjust his tie. He turned to me with a smirk.

“How much do you like Reno?” he drawled.

I looked away, across the river. Full morning sun had brought out the fiery brightness of the colors of red slanted roofs, of gold and blue paint, of the exotic foliage and those blinding white flowers. I took my time considering how to answer, feeling trapped. He waited.

“I’ve come to think of you both as friends,” I said. “Much to my chagrin. I know I’m just a job to you guys. I guess it’s pretty pathetic of me to think of you as more than bodyguards and guides. It’s getting late and I need to see to those villagers who still have the stigma. Thanks for the conversation, Rude.” I spoke so quickly he couldn’t get a word in and started walking away before I finished. I heard him hurrying after me.

_Coward_ , I cursed myself, and stopped dead. He almost stumbled over me. _He’s not a gossip, he’s asking because he cares about his friend._ The wind was starting to pick up again. I turned to look up at him, flustered, unable to think clearly. I felt too much that I didn’t know how to say, or if I should speak at all. Who I was, what I’d done, what I’d been a part of and become weighed on my mind.

“Rude, do you think he’s too good for me?” I said in a rush.

His eyebrows arched so high that had he hair, they would have been at his hairline.

I ground my teeth. _Shit_ , I thought. “Forget I asked. Forget I said anything.” I turned away again and started walking even faster than before, wishing so hard I could undo the last thirty seconds. _Where did it start going wrong? When should I have shut up? Le mot juste, you foolish girl._


	5. Chapter 5

**_Reno—Rocket Town_ **

_Fucking airship mechanics. Minds always in the gutter._

It had gotten to the point where I could practically smell at the town limits when there was going to be trouble. I could see the desperate hunger she’d talked about. Me, I called it plain lust.

Rocket Town is full of primarily strong, stupid men who work in the airship yards, few with families. I don’t see how Mayor Highwind keeps these moronic louts in check when any unescorted woman comes to town, let alone one like a walking wellspring of life everyone’s trying to suck on.

I swung my nightstick, deliberately casual. I didn’t particularly want to kill the smelly primates. I didn’t want to start anything we’d have to extricate ourselves from. I’m great at broadcasting that I’m someone you don’t wanna mess with, despite my size. Growing up in the slums, sallow and wiry, you learn to make the most of what you’ve got.

Rude tried to follow my lead, but subtle ain’t exactly in his repertoire, poor bastard. He’s like a giant locked door with a comically huge ‘KEEP OUT OR ELSE’ sign. He shows up and everyone checks themselves. Sometimes I envy that law-enforcement shit he exudes, but if I weren’t my fantastic self I wouldn’t have the magic that makes me deputy director of the Turks.

We crawled through the filthy, noisy town shadowed by giant airship skeletons in varying stages of completion. I stuck close to Schala. I periodically flicked the EMR on and off, enough that its shrill buzz and flicker of electricity caught the attention of the mechanics hovering at the periphery to watch her like a pack of hungry wolves.

_That’s right, assholes, keep walking_ , I thought, fixing one or two with my classic no-nonsense stare. _Don’t fuck with Reno and Rude of the Turks._

A whiff of pungent smoke wafted into my face. “Well, well, well, what have we here?”

I shouldered my nightstick and swiveled with a grin. “How’s it hangin’, old man?”

Cid Highwind’s cigarette end flared almost as red as my hair. His lips pursed. He blew a potent stream of smoke right in my face. I coughed, eyes streaming.

“Watch it, punk, you’re on my turf now,” he said out of the side of his mouth, keeping the cig in place.

I lolled my head toward my partner. “I call that a profound lack of gratitude, Rude. What do you think?”

Rude folded his arms and looked imposing. “ _Profound_ lack,” he echoed. “Maybe we should just take our charge and go, partner.”

“What the fuck are you two on about now? You here on some errand for that asshole boss of yours? ’Cause his airship ain’t gettin’ finished any faster no matter how ya threaten me. In fact I’m liable to get a bit flustered about the plans, maybe have to overhaul the whole shebang, if you piss me off.”

“Ooh, touchy,” I mocked. “Maybe you could shut your trap for a minute and pay attention.” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder and swiveled to look back at Schala. She knelt on the ground, surrounded by sick children whose exhausted and wasted-looking mothers pushed them forward to her.

I picked a terrific moment to reveal her. Like a picture postcard she was, ministering to those little tykes. The green stuff was flowing out of her full blast.

_Like a damn Mako reactor_ , the thought crossed my mind, sobering and disturbing me as I realized how true it was. She was shivering inside the jacket and the black velvet clothes they’d gifted her in Wutai. Nothing stopped her when she really got going. Another reason we had to watch out for her—she was just as eager to give away healing as everyone was frantic to take from her.

“Fuckin’ hell,” hissed Cid. “That’s… that’s… who the hell is that?”

“Our friend,” Rude said, unexpected and loud, and Schala’s head whipped up. “Miss Zeal.”

She stared at Rude, her expression unreadable. I gave him a long look myself and wondered what he was up to.

“Yeah,” I said finally, and turned to look at Cid. “Miracle, huh? She can cure Geostigma.”

Cid stared at her, wide-eyed and frowning in shock. The cigarette fell forgotten from his lips. At length he said quietly, “Where did she come from?”

I shrugged. “Somewhere in the countryside, she says. Does it matter? She’s not who she looks like, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Cid. “But… damn! Does Cloud know?”

I rolled my eyes with a theatrical sigh. “Believe it or not, a lot of shit goes on in the world that Cloud doesn’t know about. You AVALANCHE people don’t zip your flies without talking to him, do you?”

Cid glowered at me. “You could work your fuzzy red ass off your whole damn life and never amount to half the man he is, and you know it. Drives you nuts, don’t it?”

I barked a laugh. “Oh, that’s rich. Me, trying to imitate the great moody delivery boy! No thanks.”

Cid nonchalantly dug a rumpled paper carton out of his back pocket and tapped it against his calloused palm. “We whipped your hide quite a few times, as I recollect, pretty boy. You lookin’ to go another round with me?” He put a fresh cigarette in his mouth, pocketed the pack and flicked a lighter to suck-start his cancer stick.

“Reno,” Rude said urgently.

I glanced at him, followed the direction his sunglasses were pointed and saw. While Cid had me distracted, the children had gone and the press of the genuinely needy flowed away from her. This left the burly men at the edges of the crowd to move in.

I took a sharp breath and tensed. Before I could move, Schala rose spinning from her crouch and punched the dirty oaf behind her in the balls. As he fell groaning to his knees, his compatriots closed in an angry knot. She whirled and kicked out.

_Go, go, go!_ I thought with glee, grinning fit to break my face.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Cid yelled, wading in. “Break it up!” He got an elbow to the face for his trouble. The core remained focused on my student. She ducked and wove and twirled, never where they grabbed. Her fists and feet landed well as her body bent and stretched like some gorgeous predator. She wasn’t perfect in form by a long shot, but she’d made so much progress in so short a time.

_God damn, look at her go!_ I thought. _Look at that hot motherfucking shit I created! Maaaaan!_

She did another one of those backflips she surprised me with in Wutai. Cid had recovered by this point and started peeling the men off her. “Knock it off, you fuckin’ morons!” he snarled. “I’ll throw ya _all_ in jail! Hit the showers!”

The men finally listened, retreating with seething glances at her, bruised and bloodied. Cid strolled up to my girl, who straightened and released her fists.

“Tryin’ to start a riot?” he said.

“No, sir,” she said, panting. “Just trying to heal some sick people.”

“Uh-huh. You solicitin’? Recruitin’ for Shinra?” he said.

“No, sir,” she said, keeping calm despite the mayor’s confrontational tone. Rude stepped in between them, surprising me. I hadn’t even heard the big man move. He clasped his hands in front of him, facing Cid.

“Is there a problem?” said Rude. “We’re happy to leave if Miss Zeal’s services aren’t welcome here.”

“No, please!” cried a woman in dirty clothes who’d retreated as the fight started. She appealed desperately to Cid, spreading her hands. “Captain Highwind, please, my husband is very sick with the stigma and can’t get out of bed. I’m begging you, let this woman heal him.”

Cid put his hands on the woman’s shoulders. “Calm down, Renata, I’m not runnin’ them outta town. She’ll see to Clyde, and everyone else who’s sick. I just want to restore a little law, order and respect around here.”

“Then talk to your men, Captain,” I said peevishly, strolling up. “They’re the ones that started it. Fighting those assholes off takes up her valuable time and energy, you know.”

“May I say something, Captain?” said Schala.

“Shoot,” said Cid, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and blowing smoke up at the sky instead of in her face. He folded his arms.

“Tensions are running high in towns and villages all around the world,” she said. “Geostigma has affected not just those who are sick. Everyone’s been afraid of catching something that can’t be cured. People have watched family, friends, neighbors fall and suffer seemingly at random. Communities are divided. When anyone could be next, it makes people desperate and isolationist, protecting self-interests and their children at any cost.

“People who’ve given up hope, faced with an inkling of it, tend to grab hard and hold on fast. What I believe may help is a firm hand, reassurance and structure to the process of healing the sick and injured. You seem capable, moral and determined. Can we work with you to help your people?”

I realized my mouth hung open and shut it. I tore my eyes from her to look to Cid.

He nodded. “You got your head screwed on right, girl.” He reached out as if to ruffle her hair and she reared away, her expression hardening. He had the grace to look embarrassed. “Sorry. Shoulda known better. Tell ya what, let’s get you set up at the inn, I’ll talk to my people and we’ll arrange a place for you to work. And I’ll make sure you’re only seein’ people who need your healin’.”

She nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

“Eh, call me Cid. Everyone ’round here calls me that or Captain. C’mon, kiddo. You two goons may as well come, too.” He turned and strolled off, trailing smoke. Schala glanced over at me before following. I trailed Rude, bringing up the rear, full of churning thoughts.

_She’s got the same gift of gab as President Shinra_ , I thought.

She stretched out on her bed in the inn. I flopped on the next bed over, watching her. She plucked at the covers, rolling them up around her like a quilted tortilla. Her eyes were shut.

“I’m proud of you,” I said. “You’re really getting the hang of beating seven kinds of shit out of people.”

“Got a good teacher,” she murmured.

“You got that right.” I frowned. “You gonna take a nap?”

“Mm-mmm…”

“Yeah, right. You conk out for a while. I’ll make sure Cid’s got those gearheaded greaseballs in hand.” I rolled up off the bed and strode for the door. “Rude’ll watch out for you while I go drop a few choice words in the old man’s ear.”

“Lyrant?”

I glanced back at her. “Yeah?”

Her eyes were open again. “Thank you.”

I grinned. “Don’t be so quick with the gratitude, I’m gonna work you harder in practice. Gotta keep you from getting cocky.”

“Oh, but I have the best teacher for that,” she said.

I stalked toward her mock-menacingly. “You better watch your mouth if you don’t want your lesson right now, Bami.”

She rolled onto her back and stretched with a sleepy grin, arching that supple little velvet-covered body. “Good idea, Lyrant. I need a lesson in how to fight off a strange man who attacks me in my bed while I’m sleeping.” She shut her eyes and folded her hands on her chest.

“Don’t tempt me,” I growled, my fingers twitching. _I don’t know that I could control myself and remember that I’m supposed to be training you_ , I added in my head. _Don’t test me. I don’t want to find out, here and now, that despite trying so hard my entire life, I’ve turned out like my father…_

She peeked at me. “Are we going to fight, or what?”

I turned away, angry and apprehensive. “Later. I’ve got shit to do.” I skedaddled, but refrained from slamming the door. It wasn’t her fault I was horny as hell. _Although it kinda is_ , my smarmy inner voice piped up, less-than-helpfully adding a slideshow of the hottest images from her fight earlier.

Sometimes I _really_ wish I could kick my inner voice in the face.

**_Schala—Rocket Town_ **

I couldn’t lift my head off the bar. I felt so tired. Rude sat beside me, and now that I knew what to look for I saw sympathetic concern in the tension around his mouth and eyes. Reno had gone up for a shower, loudly declaring for all the inn’s empty main room to hear that he stank.

_Vain as a peacock_ , I thought, clutching my teacup as the last vestiges of warmth leached out of the porcelain. At least the town was healed, and I’d managed to look not-exhausted until Reno was out of sight. I wanted to leave at first light. Despite the best efforts of Captain Cid and whatever Reno had said to him, those mechanics and steelworkers had gotten in more than a few unwarranted feels on the flimsiest excuses of ‘helping.’

_No one needs to touch me that much. Especially when I’m clearly standing on my own two feet._

“Do you need help getting upstairs?” Rude said ironically at this point.

It took me several moments to formulate my response and muster the energy to speak it. “Not yet. I need a couple more minutes, my friend.” I managed to open the eye pointed upward and saw him nod once at me, elbows braced on the wood, leaning slightly forward.

_A better friend than I probably deserve_ , I thought, exhaustion exacerbating my emotions. _No one in this world so much as suspects what destruction I was once a part of, unable to extricate myself from. …This is all past. Can I start anew here? Is there redemption in what I do? Is that why I’m doing it, to heal the sins of my past?_

_I remember helping because I wanted to, not in order to atone. That Schala… a lifetime ago. Dead now, I suppose. Or someone else._

The inn door opened and Rude was on his feet in a flash. I lifted my head and whirled, but this caused the whole room to spin around me. Rude relaxed beside me.

“Evenin’,” came the Captain’s voice. His bootfalls echoed across the floor and he swam into focus. He was carrying a spear on his shoulder and that omnipresent cigarette in his mouth. I coughed, and this set off a whole spate of shivers.

“Whoa, sorry, girl.” He extinguished his cigarette and dropped it on the bar. “You doin’ all right? You look like hell.”

I leaned heavily on the bar, still coughing, eyes streaming.

“Damn. Let me get you some water.” He vaulted over the bar and in rapid time had slammed a glass of clear liquid in front of me. “Drink this, honey.”

I took it with a nod and sipped as much as I could without choking. The irritation in my throat gradually subsided. He looked on me with alarmed concern.

“Gonna pull through?” he said.

I nodded, swallowing more water. “Thank you,” I managed to get out.

“Naw, girl, thank _you_.” He shook his head. “Never seen anythin’ quite like what you did today. You’ve got my gratitude, as well as most of the people in this town. Anytime you need air transport, just gimme a call and I’ll pick you up, okay? Don’t think you can depend on these Shinra creeps once they’re finished exploitin’ ya, but you’ve got a friend for life in Cid Highwind.”

Rude cleared his throat and I glanced around at him. It was clear his fierce scowl was aimed at Cid.

“Got somethin’ to say to me, eight-ball?” said Cid.

Rude glared. Tension thickened.

_Get me out of here_ , I thought wearily.

“Thought not.” Cid returned his attention to me and grinned, producing a card out of his pocket. “Got my home number on the back. You’re welcome anytime, darlin’. Don’t be a stranger, hey?”

“You’re very kind, Captain,” I said, pocketing the card.

“I’ll even smoke outside if you come visit,” he said. “When you meet him, tell Cloud to give me a buzz, too. Man don’t answer his damn phone.” He saluted me jauntily and strode out. “Don’t worry about the bill!” he called over his shoulder before the door shut.

I turned to Rude, laying my head back down on the bar. “Am I supposed to know who Cloud is?”

Rude was silent for a good long while. I opened my eyes and propped my head on my hand, frowning, unable to see his expression.

“I take it that’s a ‘you’re kidding, right?’” I said. “I’m ill-informed.”

“Where have you been for the past two years?” said Rude. “Everyone knows who Cloud is. He defeated Sephiroth. Cid’s one of the group who helped him defeat the Weapons and save the world.”

“Oh,” I said. That, at least, I had heard about.

Rude shook his head, looking incredulous. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” He rose and held out his arm to me in a gentlemanly way. I took it, wishing I didn’t have to lean on him so much.

“Thank you,” I said, wincing. I couldn’t straighten up out of my huddle against the chill inside me.

“You work too hard,” he said, helping me to the stairs. He switched me to the other side so I could use the banister as well.

“This place isn’t like Wutai,” I said, softly, in case anyone was listening. I heaved myself up, angry at my own weakness. “Damn, I have to get better at this if I’m going to get through Junon and Edge!”

“We’ve got time.”

I shook my head. “Every day more people get sick. Every day people die I could have saved.” _More blood on my conscience._

“If you die, if you get sick, you can’t save anyone.”

I sighed. Talking was too much effort. We crested the stairs at last and my legs wanted to give out right there. The hall seemed like salt in an open wound, like the last straw.

Rude saw me hesitate and put an arm around my waist, supporting both arms at once to guide me to the door. As we neared it, I heard Reno singing in the shower. He was _loud_. I grinned up at Rude, who shook his head with a sigh.

“Oh, you love him,” I said. “Who else could get under your skin like he does? Without him, you’d get so bored.”

“Wish I could, sometimes,” said Rude, opening the door. “Bored seems a lot more fun when you haven’t been it in years.” He helped me to my bed, steadied me with one strong arm and whipped back the covers with his other hand. I lowered my aching body into the envelope.

“If you ever need respite from the snoring,” he said, pulling the covers over me, “and singing, and whistling—I can stay with you some night and Reno can have the single.” The shower shut off, but the singing continued as Rude spoke.

I hid my grin in the pillow. Reno snored lightly like a dog, but I could hear Rude’s log-sawing through the wall.

“Thanks, friend,” I said extending a hand up to clasp his. Whether or not I thought I deserved his kindness, it was plainly there. He smiled briefly at me, then turned to go. As Rude left, Reno popped out of the bathroom in his briefer-than-briefs, towel slung around his neck and hair flowing free like an exotic mane down his back.

“What did he want?” said Reno, frowning at the shutting door as he flopped on the other bed.

“He tucked me in,” I mumbled, shutting my eyes.

“Jeez, you look beat. No practice tonight, huh?” he said.

“You go ahead without me,” I said.

He _tsk_ ed. “Lazy Bami.”

I rolled away from him. It stung that he persisted in calling me a bitch, even though it sounded pretty in Wutain. I knew my exhaustion made me sensitive and hoped the hurt would evaporate with the morning dew. I had always had a soft spot for the Earthbound Ones in Zeal, and something told me Reno had grown up underprivileged as well. Whatever his history he possessed a strength and confidence I lacked and yearned for, a sort of power not dependent on position or other fleeting things.

_Reno is Reno…_ I thought philosophically.


	6. Chapter 6

**_Reno—Nibelheim_ **

Nibelheim will never not give me the creeps. I don’t see how people can stand to live there. They were transplanted there like trees after Shinra rebuilt the town. The director never talks about it, but I know he feels shame for his part in what we did there.

I wasn’t part of the team sent to clean up the town. Rude was there when the place burned, and part of the retrieval squad sent after Zack Fair and Cloud. I was part of that squad too. I look back on that part of my life as little as I can. It wasn’t all that long ago, but it might as well have been a lifetime. It was for Zack, that’s for damn sure, and sometimes—when I can’t help myself—I wonder about Cloud.

The people there must have been indoctrinated. I’ve never seen the file on Nibelheim, so I don’t know how in the world the company persuaded them this hellmouth was a place to settle and raise a family. They walk the streets in the shadow of the mountains where the damn reactor lurks, where the nightmare began. They walk past the gates of the creepy-ass Shinra Mansion, where the worst crimes of humanity happened. Sephiroth, Zack and Cloud were all experimented on down in that basement. Also Vincent Valentine, once a Turk, now given to fits of turning into a beast grown on the slopes of hell.

Like I said: ultra-creepy. Rude clammed up for good as we approached the town. I glanced over at him. For once I actually wanted to pull my shades down too, but vanity won the day. I tightened my jaw and grip on the control stick as the chopper landed.

Turned out most of the people in the town when we arrived, two years after Meteor, were the remains of Shinra’s science division. Doing research in the mansion.

_Creeeeeeepy._

Fortunately the nerds were mostly well-behaved with Schala. They looked like they’d rarely seen a girl. Some of the doctors insisted on treating us to dinner. A few minutes in I saw they just wanted to ask her searching questions about her healing ability, her past, her ancestry.

My creep factor ramped up to max. I pushed my chair back, rising. She looked up at me while one of the scientists continued to batter at her. “Bami,” I said. “Practice time. Let’s go before you get too tired.”

She glanced over her shoulder sadly at the fireplace she sat so close to I was surprised her skin wasn’t crispy-fried. She got up.

“C’mon,” I said, looping an arm possessively around her, glaring at the irritated doctors. I steered her out into the bracing mountain air. She shuddered against me.

“I know,” I told her. “You’ll warm up once we get started, I promise.” I walked us back out of town, away from the reactor and buildings. I lowered my voice. “Stay away from those labcoats. I don’t trust them.”

“Don’t they work for Shinra too?” she said.

I shook my head. “Doesn’t matter. The science division doesn’t have a great reputation. Personally I’d like to see them all abandoned on some desert island to do their little experiments on each other.”

She didn’t say anything. I found us a clear spot out of sight of that nightmare’s beginning and we trained for a while. The wind was biting cold, and clearly she was having trouble thawing her muscles. I called a halt pretty quickly.

“M-m-maybe if we had second practice around midday,” she said, “took a break from th-the…” The wind slapped her face and took her breath away, whipping her hair and my ponytail around. We hurried back to the inn to find the fire banked for the night and the common room empty.

We’d already snagged all the spare blankets in the inn. They made a pretty pathetic pile. I watched her crawling under as I took off my shoes. She convulsed so hard it looked like she was having a seizure. I stripped my pants and shirt and padded to her bedside.

“Scoot over,” I told her, and she did. I slid in behind her and wrapped her in my arms, pressing my body flush against hers. Her shivering began to subside in my taut embrace.

“Don’t get any bright ideas,” I told her to try to alleviate the tension of the moment, and half to myself so my body would quit feeling frisky about holding her. “I’m not that kind of boy.”

She laughed sharply, jerking in my arms. I grinned into her jasmine-smelling hair.

“I don’t care what you’ve heard,” I said, feigning stiffness and offense. “It takes a lot more than drinks and dancing to get in my y-fronts.”

She giggled harder, the laughs bubbling out of her.

“I get the sense you’re not taking my virtue seriously!” I whined, grinning when this elicited the desired cackling from her. It didn’t matter how easy I found it to make her laugh. It always felt good to hear her loosen up.

“I’m warning you, I’ve got my lawyer on speed dial,” I said. “You assault me and I’ll have you in court ’till the end of your natural.”

“My natural what? Hair color?” she snickered.

“Are you making fun of my hair?” I snapped. “’Cause you’re one to talk! That shit ain’t cool, you know. It hurts to be this beautiful, _huuurts_ , I tell you!” I squeezed her hard in my feigned pathos.

She twisted around in my arms, beaming. “You are the absolute limit, Lyrant! I’m going to warm the other side now and pass out, but you can go on being agonizingly awesome.”

“When am I ever not?”

She snuggled against my chest with a contented sigh, no longer shivering. I thought I’d follow her right down into sleep, but I didn’t. My eyes remained open in the strange dark and frosty moonlight through the windows. I heard the wind moaning around outside. It sounded like some creature come to haunt me for my sins. Misty memories gathered around me and took me on a hellish ride.

I thrashed awake in the dark, gasping, buried in too many covers and boiling hot. The air outside my cocoon was freezing. I saw a shadow silhouetted at the window and yelped. Panic from the nightmare was wiped by panic of a waking one.

_Please, please, for the love of Holy, don’t let it be Sephiroth or some other genetic experiment gone horribly wrong…!_ I silently begged.

A fresh shockwave hit me: I was alone in bed and hadn’t started out that way. The person I was supposed to protect was gone. I cursed inwardly, heart racing, still unable to speak or move. My eyes adjusted enough that I could spot some details on my nocturnal visitor.

Instantly I felt like a prize fool. Schala stood at the window, wrapped in a blanket. I took one for myself and wrapped up, teeth chattering more in residual adrenalin than cold. I slipped over beside her. She stared out at the spires and shadows of the Nibel mountains.

“Hey,” I said. I nudged her. She started, as if she hadn’t heard my undignified waking nor been aware of me there. I grabbed her as she stumbled backward. “It’s alright, it’s me. …Reno,” I clarified, wondering if she was asleep or half-clutched by some bad dream of her own. _Does she know what happened here?_

She relaxed, but only a little, and looked back out the window, eyes wide.

“What’s wrong?” I said.

“I don’t know,” she said softly. “Northward.”

“‘Northward’?” I repeated. “What’s northward?”

“I don’t know. Something wrong.” She shivered. I put my arms around her and rubbed her back and biceps to try to warm her again.

“You had a nightmare,” I said. “Come on, let’s get you back to bed. We’ll scram in the morning. Everything will look better away from this hellhole.” She allowed me to lead her back to bed and said nothing more, but her silence felt tense. Mine was too.

I hate Nibelheim.

**_Schala—Cosmo Canyon_ **

“What are we doing?” I said, leaning into the cockpit. Reno stared out the window, making no move to open the helicopter door though the blades had nearly spun down after landing. Rude was filing his nails with his gloves folded on one knee.

Reno rolled his eyes at me. “Waiting for the dust to settle, duh, Bami. Look.” He clinked his Electro-Mag Rod against the window and I angled further forward, twisting.

“Oh, wow,” I said at the nearly-blinding swirl of red dust. “Good idea.”

“We’ve been here a few times before, eh, Rude?” said Reno, lolling his head toward his partner, and noticed Rude’s activity. “Again with the nails! If you had hair you’d spend every free second getting every strand in place!”

“Look who’s talking,” murmured Rude.

“Swear to god, man, just get _laid_ already! Let loose, lose control, get messy with some chickadee and get rid of all that fucking tension.” Reno shook his head. “Moron.” His eyes caught mine and he rolled his expressively. “Am I right?”

“Fuck if I know,” I said with a shrug.

“Oh, Princess Bami _does_ swear!” he crowed, and twisted toward me with his palm up. I smacked it, sharing his grin.

“Damn right she does, Lyrant,” I said. “Oh, which reminds me, you know what the name ‘Gorun’ means in Wutain?”

“Not a clue.”

“‘Enjoys cleanliness.’”

Reno howled with laughter. “Are you fucking kidding me?! That’s _perfect_!” He elbowed Rude, who scowled behind his glasses at his ebullient partner. “Gorun, she’s got your number!”

“Thanks, friend,” Rude said to me, dripping with sarcasm.

I beamed at him. “Didn’t want you to feel left out, friend.”

He sighed loudly and put away his nail file in an inner breast pocket. He began putting on his gloves.

Reno leaned forward and in a stage whisper said, “He’s got trimmers, buffers, nail brushes, lint brushes, head polish and all the sunglasses you can eat in that pocket. It’s deeper on the inside.”

“Oh, just like you!” I burst out, and flushed when I saw how taken aback Reno looked.

“Not so loud!” he said, his smile with an edge to it. “You’ll ruin my reputation.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, fixing my eyes out the window. The air looked nearly clear, so I made for the cabin door to get out of the chopper and away from that expression on his face.

Glorious dry desert heat hit me. I tried not to suck in a deep breath as soon as I was out, mindful of coppery dirt still in the air. I walked off toward the steps leading up to the town.

“Hey, wait up!” Reno shouted, trotting up behind me. “What the hell’s the matter with you? There’s a reason we’re here, you know.”

I shrugged, glancing over at him. In the odd light I saw a clarity of detail I never had before and stopped in my tracks, peering at him. The red spikes of hair draping across his face cast distinct shadows on his skin, but two symmetrical red strands did not have corresponding shadows.

“What?” he said. “Dust on my face?” He reached up self-consciously.

I did as well, reaching for his left cheekbone. He twitched but held still, waiting for me to pick off whatever it was. I laid my fingertips on the edge of his eye socket and rubbed outward toward his ear. The red remained in place, distorting slightly with the pull of skin but not smudging.

“It’s a tattoo, isn’t it?” I said. “They both are.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Uh… yeah.”

I pulled my hand back, scrutinizing his face anew with this knowledge. “Okay.” I resumed my path toward the steps.

“You got a problem with them?” he said aggressively.

“Why would I?”

“I don’t know. Why do you even care?”

I didn’t answer, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. Something was so messed up about this conversation. He was coming off angry and insecure. His defense mechanisms were clearly malfunctioning, and he wasn’t happy about it. I had to take a few moments to figure out how to fix it without appearing to be condescending or letting on that I knew he was in need of reassurance.

“’Cause you’re awesome, duh,” I said, thwacking him on the arm. “Fishing for compliments again, vain little Lyrant?”

He laughed, and I heard the tension ease. He stretched his arms out over his head. “You know it!” The rocks and light combined to nearly match his hair and tattoo marks, making part of him disappear into the landscape. One of his arms, as it lowered, draped around my shoulders in that ridiculously not-subtle way men have. What would have irritated me from anyone else, from him filled me with the urge to laugh.

“Warm enough _now_ , Bami?” he said. “This place just sucks all the moisture outta you.”

“It could be warmer,” I said.

“Well, it’s no Costa del Sol.” He shook his head as we started ascending the long natural stair carved into the rock. “Fucking first vacation in four years, and _you_ show up.”

“Hey, I didn’t make you carry me to your room!” I protested.

“All right, you tell me: what am I supposed to do when a pretty girl collapses at my feet?”

“And you chose to cut it short and take m…” I stopped short as his words registered. I glanced up at the town starting to edge into view high above. I felt like he’d removed my brain.

“Take what?” he said.

“What…?” I said distractedly.

He snorted. “You’re losing it.”

_Yeah, I know_ , I thought, not even attempting to say anything else. My brain managed to form the idiotic thought totally unworthy of my age and experience: _He thinks I’m pretty!_ I wanted to kick it back down the stairs.

I clenched my jaw and ignored him as he started to whistle in his self-satisfied way, his arm still flopped across my shoulders. _Everything’s a resting spot for him_ , I told myself sternly. _It doesn’t mean anything. And that’s a good thing. Because to him, you’d be just another notch in the bedpost. You don’t want to get hurt._

***

As I healed a child under the watchful eyes of his parents, I became aware that an animal watched me. The green glow from my work made a sheen on the creature’s eyes. It looked mostly like a lion. Its mane was a bright red mohawk, the animal equivalent of Reno’s hairdo. Feathers and beads clung in its hair. Brands and scars marred its blood-orange hide.

I looked over to meet its gaze. It looked as if it was sizing me up. I felt intimidated. When the glow had faded and I removed my hands, the animal moved forward. No one reacted. I remained where I was, uncertain. Its jaw opened.

“How long have you been able to do that?” it said in a mellifluous male voice.

“A… few months. …Forgive me, I didn’t catch your name…?” I felt a little taken aback, but it wasn’t like I’d never encountered anything like him before.

“Nanaki, or Red Thirteen, if you like,” he said, seating himself before me, front paws drawn together primly. “And you are?”

“Schala Zeal,” I said. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Something about his proper manner made me lapse into the stiff etiquette of my youth.

He watched in silence a few more moments. “Will it disturb your concentration if I ask you about what you are experiencing?”

I shook my head. The green had run out. “As long as you follow along with me as I go to those who need it.” I rose, and so did Nanaki.

“Of course,” he said. “There is another two doors down.”

I pointed at the far wall. “That way, right?”

He nodded, following me out the door. “Have you an awareness of where those with the stigma are?”

“Yes. It’s like a pulling.”

He asked more and more about my experiences, going back thoroughly over each detail to make sure he understood. I didn’t ask why he was asking, although I did wonder at the depth and curious scientific quality to his curiosity. Reno and Rude silently followed us around town.

My attention was thoroughly occupied by answering his questions, healing, and my growing fatigue and cold. I wasn’t as able to defend against men who would surreptitiously crouch down beside me on the pretext of watching and take advantage of my preoccupation.

At last I had to interrupt Nanaki. Someone had put their hand up under my shirt and reached around from behind me. I glared back over my shoulder. He didn’t meet my eyes, pretending intense focus on my glowing hands on the young woman in front of me.

“You are being really inappropriate, sir. Remove your hands from me at once,” I said loudly.

At this, Reno snapped to attention from his casual lean against the wall. “Son of a _bitch_!” he snarled, spotting what was happening.

The man stilled, but before he could extract his hand from the cookie jar, Nanaki had sunk his teeth into the man’s arm and dragged him forcibly off me to slam on the floor. Reno stood over them both a mere heartbeat later, nightstick out and crackling with electricity, leveled at the man’s stricken face. Everyone leaped out of the way with gasps and cries of alarm as all this transpired. The woman under my touch whimpered in fear. A child burst into loud wails.

“Everyone _out_!” Rude barked, raising his hands, unfolding to show his bulk to fullest effect. No one needed to be told twice, but Nanaki and Reno still held my assailant pinned to the floor behind me.

“ _You shame your tribe_ ,” Nanaki snarled. “You shame us _all_!”

“I was just giving her a massage! She didn’t protest! She liked it!” said the assailant.

“Are you fucking deaf as well as well as stupid? Lady just said _no_!” Reno yelled. I heard the taser engage and the man scream.

“My permission was not requested,” I said. “Gentlemen, would you kindly take the matter outside? You’re disturbing this poor woman.”

“Of course, my lady,” said Nanaki, remorse in his tone. “I apologize sincerely and this man will answer for his…”

“Rude, stay and guard her,” Reno interrupted. I heard them hauling the man to his feet and out. The door shut. Not once through this did the electric hum stop. A sharp ammonia stink of urine lingered in the air. The woman lying in her bed looked up at me in sincere gratitude.

I heard muffled yelling outside but ignored it, wearied, and looked around the small household. _Kitchen seems likely…_ I thought. Once the green energy dissipated I got up and headed through into the kitchen. Rude stood silently against the door, arms folded. I started rummaging through cabinets.

“Is there something you need?” the woman’s voice called from the other room.

“Found it,” I called, and filled the bucket I’d located under the tap. I submerged a soap bar and rubbed until suds appeared, set the bar aside, picked up a brush and returned to the main room. I didn’t want to do this but it needed doing, and I figured it might as well be my responsibility since I wanted it done the most. I couldn’t forget the creepy feel on my body, I couldn’t undo what had happened, but I could clean away the external physical evidence of the incident.

I knelt where I’d been, facing the other way, dipped brush in pail and began to scrub at the awful-smelling puddle on the floor my assailant had left upon being attacked. My patient was still too weak to do this, and I felt a little resentful that it fell to my sense of responsibility to take care of it, but at the same time it felt good to rub out the stain of that man from my senses. My body still felt dirty, but I felt an obligation to use what energy I had to help the sickest before I tended to my own emotional needs.

The woman sat up. “What is it?”

“Almost done,” I said through my teeth. I was shivering, eager to get back out in the sun. Shouting had faded away into the distance, so whatever was happening out there was continuing to leave my vicinity as I scrubbed and scrubbed.

The smell of flowery soap and cleanliness filled the room. I took brush and bucket back to the kitchen and rinsed both out. The woman approached and touched my arm.

“Let me do this,” she said. “You have done so much for me.”

I glanced up at her, trembling.

“It is all right,” she said, soulful eyes searching mine. “‘Thank you’ hardly seems like enough for my life. If I had more I could give, I surely would. You are welcome in my home, such as it is, at any time. I promise you will never find that man here.”

I nodded, relieved, and walked back to the door. Rude stood there, impassive as ever. I stopped when he failed to give way and looked up at him.

“I’m ready to go,” I said.

He stepped aside and opened the door a crack, holding a hand out to me to wait as he checked outside. I waited, and followed him out into the late afternoon sunshine. It wasn’t warm enough. I stank of soap but felt no cleaner.

I followed the pulling sensation on automatic. I tended to go into sleepwalk mode toward the end of the day, letting my feet follow the feeling. That day, though, as cold and lethargy overtook me, I felt an altogether different pull from the north, quite far indeed. I remembered waking the night before, with a fear that wasn’t mine seeming to radiate from the ground beneath me.

The fear became nuanced as I healed the next two patients in silence. I was relieved of Nanaki’s questions enough that I could feel more clearly what was emerging below benevolent healing. Disgust and revulsion lay wrapped at the core of the fear. Quite similar to my own feelings being fondled earlier.

_I must be projecting_ , I thought uncertainly. _The Lifestream isn’t afraid of rape. What could assault a planet? In my exhaustion I’m hallucinating, melding my unconscious with my surroundings. Like a waking dream, if my body is violated, suddenly the world isn’t safe._

Nanaki and Reno tracked me down.

“The matter has been dealt with,” Nanaki said. “He has been turned out of the village. I cannot apologize enough for that man’s shameful conduct. It in no way reflects my people’s character. I cannot even imagine what drove him to do such a thing, when you have given your strength and comfort to save us all.”

“It happens,” I murmured. I didn’t want to talk. My head hurt.

“Not here,” said Nanaki. “I am ashamed that where deferential undying gratitude should have been displayed, you were instead attacked.”

Reno whipped a fur blanket out of nowhere I could see and snapped it open with a flair, then draped it around my shaking shoulders. He leaned in to my ear as I did so, and said, “Next time don’t wait so fucking long to say something. I told Nanaki to shut his trap and leave you alone while you’re working so this won’t happen again, but you’ve gotta interrupt if someone is touching you. It’s not okay. It’s never okay, not even a little. I can’t fucking do my job if you don’t let me, Bami.”

I bowed my head, too tired to be properly angry and frustrated. I heard footfalls and glanced up to see Rude step over to Reno and lean in to murmur in the redhead’s ear. Reno’s frowned deepened, his blue eyes widened, and finally he twisted to regard his partner in shock. Rude stared back through those one-way mirrors.

Reno turned and walked out without another word, slamming the door behind him. I shifted my eyes to Rude, curious. The man clasped his hands in front of him and did his impassive stance. Nanaki slunk away.

I turned, mustering strength. “Nanaki,” I said. “I bear neither you nor your people any malice or resentment for one man’s foolish actions. I do not assume the morals or characters of a people from any representative of it. Thank you for acting in my defense. I hope I have not created problems when my whole purpose in coming here was to solve them.”

His tail and head lifted. He came up to me and bowed his head.

“Your generosity of spirit humbles me, my lady,” he murmured. When he lifted his eyes, they again reflected green pouring out of me. “Anything you ever need, I will upon my honor provide you.”

I nodded, even more exhausted now. Nanaki left in lighter spirits and I leaned forward to rest my head on the bed between my arms while the green continued to stream out of me. I shivered as the fur blanket slipped down off my shoulders. As I shut my eyes, I was aware of Rude pulling it back up over me.

The next thing I knew, someone was touching me, and I was asleep. I thrashed, my body tightening, instinct coming awake before awareness and reason. My fist connected, I heard a crack and a sharp cry. My eyes flew open and up. Rude staggered back, clutching his face.

“Oh, no!” I gasped, clambering to my feet. “I’m so sorry! Here, please, I can help…!” I reached up toward his face. He lowered his hands and with them came the broken remains of his shades, one lens shattered. His nose bled. My hands flared green as they cupped it.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so so sorry, Rude,” I babbled, ashamed. “Your poor nose, your poor glasses…!”

“I was planning to carry you to the inn. I didn’t want to wake you,” he said, eyes broadcasting remorse and pain full-blast; without his glasses he’s like a blazing neon sign of every emotion he’s feeling.

I shuddered so hard with the cold filling me up. “I tend to strike out before I’m fully awake. Some… unfortunate things have happened to me in my sleep, when I’m helpless to stop it.” A flash of the Time Devourer filled my mind, an entity that had imprisoned me and used my power to try to destroy my world, leaching me of it in the process. My planet’s calamity from the skies.

The green ceased and I pulled back, so cold I dropped to a huddle on my knees, teeth chattering. Rude reached into his inner pocket, producing glasses, covering those too-vulnerable eyes. He plucked the blanket off the floor and knelt to wrap it around me.

I looked up at him, and though his nose was fixed and the glasses replaced, I still felt awful for having punched him and still saw wet blood on his upper lip. “I’m sorry, my friend.”

“No need to apologize, my friend.” He helped me up off the floor and steered me outside. My eyes kept falling shut as he walked me to the inn, arms firm around me and steps guiding mine. I felt numb except to the draw of the last few ill in the village and that distant haunting insistence of wrongness to the far north.

I roused myself, reflecting on just what I was about to walk into, not knowing the reason for Reno’s precipitous exit earlier.

“What did you say to Reno?” I said.

“I tried to pull his head from his ass,” he said. “He needed to go cool off.”

“Is he likely to still be mad at me? Should I stay in your room?” I said nervously.

“He’s mad at himself, and unfortunately took it out on you,” he said. “You’re welcome to stay with me tonight. If he gives you a hard time I’m happy to explain things again, in a language he’ll understand.” Rude extended one arm, his leather-gloved hand clenched in a fist.

I laughed. “Now that I’d like to see—Rude versus Reno.”

Rude shrugged. “It happens occasionally. Sometimes to better our skills. Sometimes…”

“…to better your friendship?”

He smiled slightly. “You could put it like that. It’s kept me from killing the selfish, vain, arrogant little prick once or twice.”

I smiled softly to myself at this. We reached the inn door and he halted. He apparently stared at the door as I looked up at him, waiting, knowing he was gathering words.

“It isn’t what you think,” he murmured. “He thinks _you_ are too good for _him_. The closer he gets to you, the harder he’ll try to push you away.” He put his hand on the handle with these last stunning words and opened the door.

As he guided me inside, my thoughts fell down a long deep well inside me. I felt so worn out just by the act of hearing what he had to say I wanted to sit on the floor. I managed to make it up the stairs. Rude paused outside one of the doors in the hall.

“What’s it gonna be?” he said. “Reno’s room, or mine?”

_Rude’s_ , my logical brain piped up, ready with a bucketful of reasoning. _Come on, no question. It has to be his. You’re getting too close to Reno, Rude just told you that in no uncertain terms. Unless you want to wind up hurting both yourself and Reno, you have to stay in Rude’s room tonight._

“Reno’s,” my treacherous mouth said. Rude shrugged, knocked on the door, and left me in front of it, using his key to open the next one down. I curled the soft fur tighter around me, swaying a little without his support, both physically and psychologically.

The door in front of me flew open. Reno stood there, scowling fiercely. My regret at what I’d just said quadrupled in the face of his pissiness. Then, just as suddenly, the look vanished, swallowed by mild surprise.

“Oh, it’s you,” he said, and stepped aside, pulling the door wide. I breathed out and entered.

“I need a bath,” I murmured, heading for the bathroom.

“Yeah, of course,” he said. “I think I managed to leave one towel dry. If not I’ll get you another, okay?” He shut the door.

_As if nothing had happened_ , I thought with intense relief. _Rude’s obviously mistaken. Reno has a temper, I know that, and it can temporarily overwhelm his reason, but he’s a professional._ I smiled to myself as I ran the bath. _Deputy director of the Turks, as he’s quick to point out. There was a problem with a mission, and the problem is sorted. Nothing more to say or do. Just rest and do the work that comes tomorrow._

I soaked in the obscenely hot bath until physical and psychological aches and dirtiness washed away. When I got out my fingers and toes had wrinkled to a painful degree and I didn’t care. At least I could feel them.

I used the last dry towel. It was not nearly enough to dry my ridiculously thick long hair, which I braided so it wouldn’t be an unmanageable fright in the morning. I hung my towel on the rail and grinned at the others flopped all over the bathroom in the same manner Reno flopped every inch of himself on everything.

_His apartment must be an unholy wreck_ , I thought as I brushed my teeth. I poked around in the open case on the sink and found Reno’s primping kit just as exhaustive as Rude’s. I snickered. Then, curious, I popped off the head of his shaver and tapped some of the contents into my hand. Tiny, tiny burnt-orange filaments.

_Natural redhead!_ It had been difficult to tell since his chest was either naturally hairless, or somehow otherwise depilated.

I washed them down the drain, reassembled the razor and put it back exactly as I’d found it. I flipped off the light as I left the bathroom and found the bedroom already dark.

I paused to let my eyes adjust enough to see which bed was occupied and headed for the other. I peeled back the covers and sat down. I saw his pale skin was reflecting the moonlight because he lay on top of the covers in the warm night air. I curled up underneath mine, the fur blanket spread on top. I enjoyed my post-bath humidity.

Still, something lingered to nag at me, that northward pull that was just enough to keep me awake. I flipped over to my other side. I felt beyond exhausted at this point.

“Bami?” he said.

“Yes, Lyrant?” I said, marveling that he could make ‘bitch’ sound so kind, like a pet name.

He didn’t answer right away.

My eyes opened, pointed not at him but at the wall. “What is it?”

“You’re not…” He stopped.

I rolled back toward him and tucked my arm under my head. “Not what?”

“Nothing. Forget it. Goodnight.” He rolled away with an irritated sigh. If it hadn’t been for what he did next, I might have let it end there, but he had to curl up into a little protective fox-ball.

_He’s hurting_ , I thought, surprised and dismayed. I sat up, pulled the covers back, and got to my aching exhausted feet enough to bounce over to his bed. I poked him in the back.

“What?!” he snapped. “I said forget it!”

I poked him again, and he whirled around in a flailing rage.

“No, I’m not mad at you,” I said. I held my breath in the silence that followed. And kept holding it. Lots more silence filled the room, thickly.

He jerked upright, and I saw moonlight reflecting off his wide eyes. “ _How did you know_?” he hissed guardedly. “Did Rude say something to you? I’ll kill that prissy little bastard!”

I put a hand on his shoulder. “Lyrant. I guessed. That’s all. Can we go to sleep now? I’m really tired.”

“Well, shit, Bami, it’s not my fault you feel a need to make everyone feel better before you can conk out,” he said.

I laughed softly as I belly-flopped back in my bed. “Excuse me for breathing, I’m sure,” I said.

“You are such a nosy little bitch,” he said, his mattress bouncing noisily as he dropped. “I miss my privacy.”

“Exhibitionists have privacy, Mr. I’m-too-sexy-for-my-underwear?”

“Ha! Knew you thought I was sexy!”

“Not as sexy as you think you are.”

“C’mon, admit it, you dream about me.”

“I dream about a little fox following me around yapping all the time, is that you?”

“It’s a _sexy_ fox, isn’t it?

“ _Ew_ , Lyrant!” I hurled one of my pillows at him.

“ _Hey_!” Another pillow sailed over me and hit the wall.

“You throw like a girl. Look like one, too.”

“ _Heeey_!” He sat up and hurled another pillow at me, this time whacking into the side of the bed and falling to the floor. He howled in frustration as I laughed. “You. Little. Bitch.” And then he jumped on me.

I was not expecting it, but fortunately the instincts and moves he’d drilled into me kicked in. I rolled, tucking my arms to give me leverage to fling him off as he landed. I used his momentum to toss him against the wall. The air rushed out of him in a gasp and I sprang up, backing away from the bed.

“Yeah, that’s right!” he said. “You’d _better_ run! ’Cause now you’ve pissed me off!”

“Oh yeah?” I panted. “Is that why you’re grinning?”

He lunged and grappled. It was a short fight. I didn’t have it in me and clearly he was full of energy. He pinned me facedown on the floor, wrists locked over my head, his feet firmly planted behind my knees.

“Feel better?” I mumbled into the bruising wooden floorboards.

“Much!” he said. “Give up?”

“Mm-hmm,” I said.

He released me and stood up to stretch with a satisfied groan. I shut my eyes, pulling my arms under my head. I had pushed myself past limits of my endurance, past reason, past sanity, past numbness, and now I couldn’t even think. I heard his bed’s springs creak, the covers rustle, then blessed silence. I pressed the floor away and crawled, inch by painful inch, back to my bed, slithering in from the foot.

“’Night,” he said.

I didn’t have the energy to reply. As soon as I gained the pillow I stopped moving and let sleep take me over.


	7. Chapter 7

**_Reno—Fort Condor_ **

My fists itched. I couldn’t wait for Schala’s midday training. I’d been in a shitty mood, starting the day before.

She’d been having nightmares since Nibelheim. I’d wake up to find her already up, and sometimes I’d hear her moan or thrash in her sleep. I didn’t say anything, because it wasn’t her fault, but couldn’t stop being pissed at her for robbing us both of sleep.

She’d tried to insist on being put in a single room at Gongaga, after some horny fuck that very day tore her shirt off her body as she tried to defend herself against an entire gang. I yelled at her. Halfway through my harangue I heard my father’s voice in mine, clammed up and stomped off.

I remembered the look in her green eyes all day and kept my trap shut, but that didn’t seem to help. She stopped smiling and withdrew into herself. I wanted to apologize but I was afraid the minute I opened my mouth it would start all over again.

That night I was woken to heart-pounding adrenalin by her scream in the middle of the night. She’d apologized until I wanted to rearrange her features. Neither of us had gotten much sleep after that. We didn’t so much as look at each other that morning before heading to Fort Condor.

Upon arrival we didn’t have time for our morning training session. Word had reached them about her and they rushed her to the side of a dying general.

Midday arrived and I pounced on her. “Now?” I said.

She nodded, finally meeting my eyes. I flung my jacket on the ground. She cast off a red denim jacket the grateful general had given her and sank into a ready stance.

“Hi _yaaa_!” I cried, and rushed her. She ducked and rolled. “Oh, come _on_!” I snarled.

She sprang right out of her crouch, startling me into dancing backward and going on the defensive. I recovered quickly and circled her, wary. Her skill improved by leaps and bounds now. I couldn’t underestimate her progress. I no longer had to say anything more than a few cursory corrections. Those sharp little eyes watched my every move, and I found her imitating many of them within seconds. Doing a pretty outstanding job of it, too.

It’s understandable, of course, that someone could learn just from watching my exquisite and well-practiced form. I’m shamelessly perfect, and look like a living diagram of how exactly one should look when doing the moves I do. I myself was sharp enough to learn from watching and imitating, from sparring off people.

Style develops when you make others’ moves your own. And I always kick it up a notch. For me, my skills are personal. My perfecting this martial art serves as a final fuck-you to the slum of dirty clumsy uncontrolled fighting that produced me. I can and do have it all—restraint and power, control and strength. They all tie together in my awesome body and brain.

I could feel my every muscle singing with release. Her ferocity landed strikes on me, and mine marked her. She wasn’t fighting me with student-teacher restraint. Those gloves were off. We were going at it like animals and it felt fantastic. In that impromptu fight on the sloping path outside the fort, our peaks collided.

It showed, too. Our passionate clash sucked people in like a vortex of unbelievable style. They poured out of the entrance, whistling, cheering, forming a loose semicircle about us.

I kept my focus. I often draw an audience when I’m peaking, so I can turn off the desire to preen and care. I did throw in some show-off moves, because I could. I was still holding back with her, so I had the wherewithal left over to dance around and make the most of the landscape and my leaping power.

I made her sweat, too. That made a hot little core of triumph burst in me. I made this abnormally cold, frigid-in-more-ways-than-one heat-craving woman break a sweat.

_Imagine what I could do to you in bed!_ I mentally taunted her, smart enough not to say it aloud.

In truth what we were doing served as a substitute for what I studiously had not done those nights we slept flesh-to-flesh, curled so intimately in the same narrow bed. It wasn’t a great substitute. God knows my balls were still blue as her hair. But that’s part of my control, too—controlling how and when I deal with overpowering drives instead of just flipping shit as soon as I feel anything.

Fighting with her was probably the best action I’d gotten in years. While on some level that’s depressing, fucking a woman who knows her stuff isn’t as awesome as fighting one who does. ’Cause with the former I still had to scoot as soon as the deed was over, and the latter I’d get to take out to get totally slammed at the bar afterward.

_I’ve got to get her drunk!_ I thought with glee. _Today it happens! I’m not taking her excuses anymore, her virtue is safe with me and Rude, I want to see her get hammered and do something off the chain!_

I shut down the line of thought before my mind could wander further down the pointless blind alley of _I wonder what she’d do?_ There was still fight to be had and I wanted to suck the hot ecstatic lifeblood out of every potent moment of it. Our choreography shone in the midday heat.

I knew from the start that I’d win. It was my right, my prerogative, my duty as her teacher to beat her. Yet unlike before I couldn’t choose any time to end it. I had to pick my moment. Opportunities were getting fewer and further between. I liked to go for the loss that would teach her the most.

I let quite a few pass. We were in the goddamn zone. And I needed it so bad. It felt amazing. I ached in the best possible way from head to toe.

I felt a moment of peak connection as my arms closed around her one final time. I shut my eyes and with all my power forced her to the ground, locking her legs behind her with mine.

She coughed. My arm hooked around her throat, though she tried with all her might to pry it off. She curled and I stayed on her like a shell on an adamantaimai. She choked now. Her other arm was pinned in my grasp. She gave one last desperate thrash, then I felt her let go and release under me. She tapped out. My eyes slid shut.

_Ohhh, man, what a feeling!_

I opened my arms, panting, and uncurled from her. I sank back into a sitting position, propping my elbow on one upthrust knee. She stayed where she was for a moment, sucking in air. The crowd cheered me. I grinned, letting my eyes slide round them, then looked down at my student, my charge, my mission.

She sat up, her back still to me. I waited. _Moment of truth_ , I thought. _How’s she feeling? Sore loser? Angry at how far it went? Antsy to go again?_

She reached up and fluffed out her hair in its usual thick ponytail, then stretched her arms up high and yawned loudly. My grin got bigger. I didn’t even have to see her face. It was good for her too.

She twisted, head bowed. She was flushed, dirty, sweaty, and had a bruise on her cheek fading in a swirling glow of green, dried blood on her otherwise unmarred and bright lips. Her eyes flicked up from the ground, flashing at me through her lowered lashes, a very feline grin on her face.

Only my enormous self-control kept my now-strained grin in place. The way she looked right then made my groin ache. I wanted to throw her down in the dirt right there and fuck the daylights out of her. Fighting is a great outlet for sexual frustration, but sometimes there’s just too much there.

_And with her, there’s more every time she so much as breathes in my direction_ , I thought, reaching up to bury a hand in my hair and hold my throbbing head. _God_ damn _it._

She swiveled the rest of her body around, onto her hands and knees, and reached for me. I froze, smile crashing off my face. _Can she read my thoughts? Does she want me just as bad as I want her, right now?_

Her hand touched my jaw. I felt coolness wash into me from her fingers. They began to glow as chilly healing flooded into me, taking away the bruising and hurts and stings and scrapes all throughout my body.

“You look a fright, Lyrant,” she said. “I can’t believe you let me fuck you up that much! I’m so grateful I’ll let you have the shower first.”

_Aaaaaaaaargh._

_She has no fucking clue._

_How can she not know?!_

_Surely she knows. She’s cock-teasing me. She_ enjoys _having my libido on a goddamn string. It’s a power trip and she’s loving every minute._

_Shit shit shit._

_This is probably what the internal monologue of every motherfucker who’s ever touched her sounds like, as they try to justify and rationalize their abuse._

_Arrrrgh._

I thunked my head against the shower wall, having autopiloted myself to the bathroom throughout this punishing line of thought. Lukewarm water washed away what it could. The rest I was just stuck with. I resigned myself to a quick whack-off to try to ditch as much sexual tension as I could when I heard my PHS ringing.

“ _Shit_!” I hissed, and shut off the shower. I hopped out, grabbed my jacket off the floor and fetched my mobile. I flipped it open and put it to my dripping ear. “Yeah?” I said, trying not to sound as irritated as I felt.

“Reno,” came the president’s voice. “What’s your status?”

“Uh…” _Oh, god, oh, god, why the hell is the president calling me?_ I grabbed a towel and slung it round my waist, feeling awkward. I perched on the toilet, legs crossed. “We’re… we’re in Fort Condor. We’ve hit all the other continents. At the rate we’re going I’d say the mission will be fully complete in about another two weeks, dependent on how bad it is in Junon and Edge.”

“I need you here faster. How quickly can you push to Edge?” said Rufus.

“Er… five days? Maybe six?” I hazarded. “What’s up, sir?”

“Tseng and Elena are MIA,” said Rufus.

I stopped breathing for a moment. I slowly dipped my head into my hand as the president continued without missing a beat.

“We’ve got a team out searching for them now but I need you here in charge,” said Rufus. “I want you to deputize a team of Turks to take over from you once you reach Edge and return to Healen as soon as possible.”

“What happened to the director and Elena?” I said.

“We don’t know that yet. It’s my hope that we’ll recover them both quickly.”

“How long ago did they disappear?” I lifted my head, allowing my hand to drop in my lap, and scanned the ceiling without really seeing it.

“A week ago.”

“A _week_?! And you’re just calling me _now_? …Sir?” _Damn!_ I cursed inwardly.

“Reno. It is not your place to question my decisions.”

“Sorry, sorry, you’re right, sir.”

“Keep me advised of your status. Do everything possible to accelerate your return to Healen.”

“Yes, sir.”

The president hung up. I slapped my phone shut and re-inserted my head into my hands, fingers digging into my scalp. My hair dripped. I only allowed a moment of frustrated reflection before pulling it together, shoving to my feet and scrambling for fresh clothes.

Schala was lying on one of the beds as I blew out of the bathroom in a ball of importance. She sat up quickly. “What’s wrong?”

“We’ve got to get to Edge as soon as possible,” I said.

She bounced off the bed. “Okay. No more training. I can sleep in the chopper. I’ll take Rude and go see to the last of the people here, okay? I’ll be ready to leave in three hours, tops.” She was at the door at the end of this sentence, and through it before I could put together a response. I frowned around the room, then gathered up my things and hers. With her unexpected initiative-taking I even had time to fix my damn hair.

_Does she think she’s in charge?_ I thought angrily as I snapped a band in place around my ponytail. _Well, yeah, I guess she would, we’re just her support for this mission, but—damn! She just took over under my nose. After that I feel a need to beat the crap out of her again._

 _…Which I will_ not _do, because I am not my father._

_I’m probably just pissed because I didn’t get to jerk off. And nervous about the director and Elena, of course._

The fog cleared from the mirror and I stared myself in the eye. It had suddenly hit me.

_I’m the acting director of the Turks._

 

Pride thrilled through me simultaneously with a sickening lurch in my gut. _I’m in fucking charge. God damn! Who the fuck cares if she just told me what to do? From here on, it’s Reno in charge, all the way._

_Oh, fuck._

I shook my head at the mirror, still not quite able to grasp the full reality.

_God help us if we don’t find Tseng soon…_ thought a quiet, uncomfortable and very self-aware part of me. I shut that noise up right away. A leader can’t lead with those types of voices around. Even a temporary leader.

I slammed my sunglasses in place and headed for the door.

**_Schala—Chocobo Farm_ **

There’s a certain point in sleep deprivation where unreality sets in. Identity goes away. Reality goes away. Hallucinations twine around one and take the place of everything with any meaning. Every sense distorts like funhouse mirrors and record skips. Thoughts no longer connect like puzzle pieces. Logic, self-narrative, and belief are stripped out as unimportant, and all mental processes are reduced to the minimum necessary.

That point had come and gone by the time I saw my first giant yellow riding bird. I stopped in my tracks. Everything except the bird, looking at me across the fence, faded.

It cocked its head at me and said, “Wark?”

I drifted to the fence. I didn’t feel my steps or know my legs as my own. A tugging like an impatient child was present within me, but I knew it could be ignored for the present. Once at the whitewashed wood I draped my arms over it. I saw the sleeve of the red denim jacket of the general’s I’d admired in Fort Condor for its resemblance to Aerith’s—like the pink cheongsam from Wutai—and wished vaguely I could see her once more. The wind off the fields blew right through me. Everything about me was frozen in ice and time. Nothing really mattered, anyway.

I reached up a hand. The bird darted forward, bobbing its head sharply out and then following with the rest of the body. Like any smaller bird, of the sort I’d seen my whole life.

A hand grabbed mine and tucked it down right before the bird reached the fence, suddenly a whole lot bigger. Its eyes were the size of dessert plates, its beak like a huge teapot with an extremely pointy spout. Someone pressed up beside me. I struggled reflexively and looked up at familiar red hair and bluegreen eyes.

“You don’t know if it’s… tame…” said Reno, and stopped. “What’s the matter?”

I looked from him back to the bird. My eyes were burning. After a moment I realized I was crying. I shook my head, wordless, and reached out my other hand surreptitiously. I had to touch it, to know if it was real. The bird’s feathers were rough, but underneath, downy-soft. It pushed its head against me so firmly I rocked back, and made a little chirpy noise like ‘kweh.’ It sounded happy. I smiled, stroking its head.

Reno released his tight grip on my wrist, and rather than let go entirely, he laced his fingers through mine. Nothing seemed strange anymore. We could have stood on the edge of the world, watching the ocean rain upward, and I wouldn’t have thought it odd. Just beautiful as a really, really big canary.


	8. Chapter 8

**_Reno—Edge_ **

Six days of work done in four. I was on the phone through most of this, getting reports from the team looking for the director and Elena, the president, and deployments of Turks on missions spread across the planet needing orders.

I still noticed Schala running herself into the ground. At night she was so cold she could barely sleep even with me wrapped around her and all the blankets we could find cocooning us. She cried out in her sleep, but I was too exhausted to care. I conked out quickly after her outbursts. She, clearly, did not.

That last day at Chocobo Farm was the worst, when she openly wept in front of me. The sight of that helplessness in her, that ultimate loss of control in the face of a goddamn bird, speared me in the chest.

I didn’t want to think why she was doing it. I was pushing myself quite hard enough I didn’t need any distractions. If I’d had the time to think I might have realized she didn’t need to push herself too. She was choosing to do it, so I could get to Edge faster.

The importance of my job outweighed all this. I had to focus.

We landed on a rooftop in Edge. With the blades still spinning down I hopped out of the cockpit and ran, jacket sleeve over my eyes to guard against grit stirred up by our descent. Twyla and Godfrey squinted into the wind, their Turk uniforms immaculate.

_Amateurs_ , I thought with disdain. _Trying to impress me, though. Got that right._

“Okay!” I shouted over the sound of the powering-down chopper engine. “Truck’s downstairs, right? Let’s get her to the hospital! I’ll go over everything again on the way!”

The lift was a joke, a platform on a metal rope, but at least it worked. Twyla and Godfrey introduced themselves stiffly to Schala, and they all shook hands. Her eyes were glazed and she swayed on her feet.

Her black cloak whipped around her and plastered along her body on one side. On the other, it revealed that the form-fitting pink cheongsam we’d gotten in Wutai a couple of months ago now hung off her like a sack. I sized her up with some alarm and sidled over to Rude.

“When did she last eat? She does eat with us, doesn’t she?” I muttered to him.

“Man, I’ve been eating alone,” said Rude. “You’re both too busy to eat.”

“Yeah, but she…” I trailed off, watching her stare at nothing as we descended through the shell of a building. “Damn!”

My PHS rang and I flipped it out and on in one practiced move. I dreaded hearing the president’s voice yet again, and felt relief when I heard Turk Hilo’s strained voice on the other end.

It took a while to sort him out, since he was in charge of a team for the first time and head of one of the two retrieval squads deployed looking for the director and Elena. By the time I’d finished, I realized I’d strolled outside on autopilot and was leaning on the lip of a truck bed. I straightened and swiveled to face Godfrey.

“All right! Everyone in the truck,” I ordered, and glanced around. “Where the hell is Schala?”

“Er… she went off that way a little bit ago,” Twyla said unhelpfully, gesturing.

“God fucking damn it!” I snarled. “Rude! Rude, what the fuck?!”

Rude spun around, and I saw he was on his PHS as well, frowning in confusion. As my temporary deputy he’d been dealing with shit Tseng normally fielded to me.

“ _Fuck_!” I screamed and rounded on my already-failed protection squad. “You two are not making a good first impression! Godfrey, take the truck and follow that street as far as you can! Twyla, Rude, come with me!” I charged off in the direction Twyla had pointed.

My head whipped right and left to check the cross-streets and alleys I passed. Edge is primarily built out of the edge of the ruins of Midgar, which are ridiculously labyrinthine. I sent Rude down the first major street we passed, stood aside to let Godfrey pass in the truck, and at the next main intersection I went one way, Twyla went the other.

We didn’t have the squad strength to effect a proper search. Hell, even if we’d had the entirety of the rest of the Turks, including Tseng and Elena, we probably couldn’t have combed the whole city effectively. I had no real plan, just anger, three Turks, a truck and my own damn feet. I took streets on a whim, hoping she was still within a reasonable radius and I didn’t need to start asking random locals if they’d seen her.

I will never know by what chance I spotted the trailing edge of her cloak. I chased after her with renewed purpose. She was really booking it herself. The motors of cars whizzing past drowned out my attempts to shout for her.

_What the fuck is she doing? She’s so tired she’s snapped, that’s it. Come totally untethered from reality, overwhelmed by the biggest city of the planet. Utterly lost little country mouse. Has she ever even been here before? Or to Midgar before the fall? Fuckfuckfuck._

She came out of downtown and wove through some ruins and scrap heaps that probably hadn’t been touched since Meteorfall. I tried calling out to her again, but either she didn’t hear me or ignored me. She rounded the corner of a huge building into a dusty straightaway. I nearly caught her. Then the alley we were in opened up and I saw her racing across open ground toward a church.

My pace faltered. I managed to keep running, but my brain kicked into overdrive. I knew that church. The ground suddenly seemed miles away as my feet pounded into it. I saw the chapel in grey ruined light, and also remembered it in the deep shadow of the Plate with only one shaft spiking down through the broken roof.

_How the hell did this place survive…?_ I thought. Discomfort grew in me. She reached the door and pushed it wide, entering. I reached it a few seconds later and stood transfixed just inside.

She’d unfastened the cape, let it fall, and strode with casual purpose out from under the overhanging balconies into the light filling the main floor between the pews. She stopped on the edge of a bed of white and yellow flowers glowing in shafts of abnormally bright light penetrating the gloom. Her pink dress, red jacket, and dirt-covered boots lit up like electricity. The only glaring difference was that neon-blue mass of hair.

_Oh my fuck._

The sight of her overlaid an almost identical memory in me. Same scene. Same place. Almost all the same details, two years ago, right at the beginning. Another mission, another lifetime, another Reno.

I’d been sent to collect the Ancient. I’d heard she hung out in this wrecked old church, and I swung by to talk to her. She was cute, I suppose, but in this irritating innocent little girl way that Tseng seemed to like a lot more than I did. I guess, being Wuteng, he’s used to submissive, overly accommodating women.

I remembered it all in a searing moment, sucking in a sharp whistle of a breath. The taunts of the two insubordinate grunts I’d dragged along with me and regretted instantly. The smell of flowers crushed underfoot. The glow of Mako-blue eyes from her companion. That was the day I met a man who would haunt the rest of my life but was now blessedly absent from this upside-down inside-out reprise of the past.

Schala’s head tipped back into the light. I felt paralyzed to move. The spell could not be broken. The supercharged air inside the cathedral wasn’t something I had the courage to step into, too afraid I would move back in time and it would happen all over again.

Chasing Sephiroth. The fights with AVALANCHE. That dirty deed—the destruction of Sector Seven by my hand, my own hand, the one lifting right now before me to ward off the memory. The Plate collapse. Then, an unstoppable cascade of disasters all across the world. The death of Aerith, the rebirth of Sephiroth, the summoning of Meteor and the near-obliteration of the world.

_No. No no no. This is now. That was then._

Then Cloud sat up and I had another mini-heart-attack. His Mako blue eyes glowed. He was sitting on a pallet off to the side of the flowers, his blond hair spiking in all directions. He wore an improbably casual black t-shirt and looked vulnerable without that giant freakin’ sword around, or his usurped SOLDIER uniform.

She moved, drawing my eyes back to her. She circled around the flowers respectfully as I failed to do two years ago. Cloud watched her come to him, unmoving, probably as paralyzed as I was. He was staring into the same memory and finding it even more unbearable.

I know I’m totally self-involved, but I’d have to be someone like Sephiroth to have avoided the knowledge that Aerith meant everything to him, that he more or less saved the planet for her memory and not for us living freaks.

After that he dissolved to a shell of a man. An aimless, reclusive delivery boy in the place of the world’s greatest hero. Thinking back, I shouldn’t have been surprised to find him living in her church, consumed by the memory of her.

And now someone who looked almost exactly like her, even dressed alike, walked toward him in this place where Aerith had stubbornly grown flowers against all probability. Schala knelt beside him. I saw her reach out to his arm, and her hands glowed green.

_Oh, no way…! He has Geostigma, shit! …Well, not for long…_

Everything was so silent and still, but for the oscillating green light washing over his mottled arm tied with a pink scrap of ribbon. He glanced down at his arm, then slowly lifted his head to look up at her again. I saw every detail of the sunlight sparkling through the tears on his face. He wept at her, looking like a lost little boy. She knelt there, healing him.

When the light subsided, she let go of his arm and reached up to cradle his face in her hands, stroking the tears away with her thumbs. I saw her in profile, smiling at him. He was a stranger to her, and she was _smiling_. She hadn’t smiled at me when we met.

It hurt so bad.

It hurt more than anger, than gunshots, than stab wounds, than falling, than punches and kicks. It hurt like those first few beatings as a child, before you wise up and learn not to let them get to you, not to let them see you cry, to close off bits of you and open them only when you choose. All those fucking doors I spent my life and guts to build were slamming open and black roiling hurt poured through me.

It was so clear, that moment, the tenderness between them. I had lost something I had no idea I wanted so much. I leaned against a pillar, so weighted with despair I couldn’t manage to hold my own fucking carcass up anymore.

His uncannily loud voice broke silence more oppressive than an entire inn’s worth of musty thick blankets: “Who are you?”

Her hands dropped away from his face and she rose. His head tilted back, staring up at her as if she was his personal shaft of light. She swiveled on her heel, the smile gone from her face, and started to walk away.

Lightning-fast, he was on his feet. He grabbed her arm.

She pivoted equally fast, her other arm coming up, and before I registered what was happening she had thrown him. His body landed with a thump that rattled the entire rickety floor and I felt it twenty feet away.

My jaw dropped. I jerked upright. Reality crashed back in. Everything revved up into the now like a motorcycle engine kicking to life.

_She threw him! She fucking threw Cloud! Holy fucking shit!_

_That’s my giiiiiiirrrrrl!_

_Doesn’t look so much like Aerith now, huh, delivery boy?_

I still felt a residual dull all-permeating ache, but overwhelming it were internal whoops of triumph at seeing my student toss the hero of the world over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She turned again to go, fear etched on her face.

“Wait, please!” he called, scrambling up. “ _Please_!” He nearly screamed in desperation.

She hesitated, glancing over her shoulder at him.

“I have a friend,” he said, “with Geostigma as well. Please, can you… help him too?”

“Yes,” she said.

Relief like morning sun washed his normally taciturn features. He nodded and turned back to his pallet, plucking up a shirt and shoulder guard. She waited, watching him dress. He sat down to put on his boots.

“I’m Cloud,” he said as he tied his laces. He glanced up at her. “What’s your name?”

She shifted from one foot to the other. “Schala Zeal. …Cid Highwind asked me to tell you to call him.” She extended a hand down to him. He clasped it, shook it, and his eyes widened in shock when she pulled him to his feet.

He said nothing, just gestured for her to follow him, and headed in my direction. I leaned back against my pillar, folding my arms, slouching in protective nonchalance. I couldn’t let either of them get to me.

He stopped dead when he saw me. He scowled in alarm. “What are you doing here?”

I grinned evilly and decided to fuck with him. I pointed at Schala. “I’m here for her.”

He shifted his stance to place himself between her and me, knee bending, other foot sliding out. I laughed in his face.

“Where’s your sword?” I said.

“There’s a way out the back,” he said, inclining his head to her.

“Excuse me,” she said, “but is there a problem, Reno?”

I snickered. “Nope!”

He turned to her. “You… know him?”

She nodded. “He followed me here. He’s my friend.”

A hint of dismay crossed his features. I wanted to whoop and punch the air. _In your face, delivery boy!_

“What about your friend?” she said kindly, and touched his arm, fouling my glimmer of a good mood. “The one with Geostigma?”

He nodded, gave me a frown, and strode out through the doors. She trailed after him and I loped behind. He mounted the ridiculously huge black-armored motorcycle outside. She hitched up the sides of her cheongsam so the slits let her swing a leg over behind him. She settled her hands on his hips.

That shit was just so not cool with me. I seethed, watching her. I couldn’t tell which one I wanted to clock with my Electro-Mag Rod more. He kick-started the bike.

“Wait!” she shouted, and swiveled to me. “Well? Are you coming?”

He twisted to look at her. “You can’t be serious.”

“He’ll fit, he’s skinny,” she said.

He shook his head. Quick as a flash she was off the bike.

“I’m not going anywhere without him,” she said in voice cold as steel. She folded her arms, facing him. “He’s my guard, and I don’t know you.”

_Ooohooo_! I thought, grinning at his ever-blank expression. His eyes slid from her to me, then twisted around to give a thousand-mile stare across the city. He nodded, once, begrudgingly.

She climbed back on the bike, and I swung a leg over after her before he could change his mind and take off with her. Her hands rested on his hips. I couldn’t stop mine from sliding all the way around her waist, legs spooning hers, just as when we slept in the same bed. Her hair hung in my face.

I put my lips near her ear, but couldn’t think what to say. I was just so fucking proud of her I couldn’t stand it, and for the moment I wasn’t letting go of her. He pushed off from the ground and we zipped across the landscape.

I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, ring inaudible over the freaking roar of the enormous engine driving the monstrosity we rode. I shut my eyes to reality for a while, felt the wind in my face and the girl in my arms, smelled her Wutain shampoo, heard nothing but internal combustion and currents of air thick enough to bite.

**_Schala—Edge_ **

I was so tired that I didn’t care that the man flush in front of me I clung to was a total stranger and the man flush behind me who clung to me was someone I feared only wanted to conquer my body. A friend about to be wiped permanently from my life, to leave me alone in a world of ice-cold healing and need.

No, all I cared about in that moment was how warm their bodies made me, sandwiched around me, and how the cold wind nipped everywhere like razors at my bare skin, and self-recriminations for leaving my cloak behind.

I had no grasp of what had happened. I think even if I hadn’t been tired the enormity of it would have eluded me. It felt potent. At that stage all that remained of me was a ball of feeling and nonsensical thought, so everything felt intense.

I wore clothes that reminded me of Aerith and the strength she’d given me as I neared the dreaded removal of Reno’s support. From the second I arrived in Edge, I felt this singularly inexorable pull to the church. I knew something profound had seized me. From the look in Cloud’s unreal eyes when he saw me, it seized him too.

I could tell Reno was profoundly shaken. His body was actually tense for the first time outside a physical fight. He coiled around me. I shut my eyes, head leaned on Cloud’s sturdy back, and let my aching mind drift.

When the bike stopped, I felt as though I was falling forward. Reno slid off the bike. Cloud shut off the engine. My limbs felt weighted and numb and I seemed to be moving in slow motion as I climbed off. I felt hands catch and steady me. My body tensed but couldn’t wake enough to shake them off. I glanced over my shoulder. Reno looked down at me. The red of his hair steadied me. I looked back up at Cloud, realized how tall both men were on either side of me, how close they stood to each other.

Cloud drifted off, up the steps we’d parked outside. A doorway moved past me, insubstantial as a curtain, and an ephemeral dark cool room materialized around me. I heard a glass shatter on the floor and cringed back into Reno. A woman with black hair and black sleeveless leather stared from behind the bar, mouth open wide. Cloud ignored her and went straight for the stairs, turning to look back at me, hand extended.

“This way,” he urged, voice tight.

I forced my steps forward, eyes drifting up. I could feel the pull now, nothing like the one that drew me to Cloud, but there were so many tugs in all directions. The nearest was up the stairs. I filed up between the two men, followed blond sea-urchin-like hair into a dark bedroom smelling of sweat and unchanged sheets. I moved past Cloud to the bedside of a small boy tossing in his sleep. A girl stood on the other side of the bed, looking up at us with wide eyes and mouth.

I knelt by the bed. I felt so tired. I wanted the furniture to prop up my mortal remains. I laid my hand on the boy’s black-blotched forehead. Cold dragged through me, out of my hands. I bent my head to the covers to hide my wince.

_Don’t let them see your weakness_ , I thought, paranoid. _Don’t let them see you’re in pain. They’ll get you if they can. Don’t let them touch you, or you’ll regret it._

All I could remember was fear, and cold, and need. Mine. Theirs. Everyone’s. My life was a sketch of those three things, repeated over and over, unalleviated by sleep.

I heard movement around me, footsteps clomping, fabric rustling. A blanket wrapped tightly around me. Firm hands tucked it in such a way it wouldn’t slip down. A body pressed up to mine as it was secured.

“Are there any more blankets?” a familiar voice said, and it took me a moment to identify the name that went with it. Reno. “Doing this makes her extremely cold.”

“Of course,” said a woman’s voice faintly behind me, and I heard more footsteps.

“Is it her?” said a little girl’s voice. No one answered. Footsteps returned, and a moment later I felt more layers being rolled around me.

The cold stopped flowing. I lifted my head, gaze spinning as I tried to focus on the boy. He sat up, blinking, and looked down at his hands, turning them over and over. The little girl let out a cry of delight and spun around, clapping her hands.

One tug answered, I became aware of more, and allowed them to pull me to my feet like puppet strings. The blankets came untucked and cascaded away. I swiveled and stepped around the redhead behind me. The blond behind him scooted out of the doorway as I slipped past, and the dark-haired woman behind him backed away into the hall. I descended the stairs, clinging to the banister with all my might.

I wasn’t thinking. I just reacted to the pull. I knew I was supposed to. To get through as much as I could, as fast as I could. It had been all I’d known for days. I opened the door expecting blinding sunlight and got a faceful of gloom. I nearly stumbled down the stairs. I could feel intensity before me as I descended toward a sea of expectant faces.

I reached out my hands and green lit them up just as they met the arms of a withered old man.

“It’s _her_!” I heard, so loud I winced, somewhere in the mass. Hands grabbed me from all sides. A press of bodies crushed in. I opened my mouth to scream that I couldn’t breathe. A shockwave of cold pulsed through me. Darkness followed in its wake. I fell to my knees. Still I was grappled. My limbs twitched in panic, trying to draw up their fighting strength, but no more remained available.

I folded in on myself and hit the ground. I heard yelling and panic, but no longer knew if it was real or only in my mind. Didn’t seem to matter much anymore. I was in hell, and the damned were crawling all over my flesh to peel me bare.

**_Reno—Edge_ **

Imagine how I felt, watching Schala go down in the crowd. As quick as I am, the desperate seething mass was quicker and stronger by sheer numbers.

I engaged the Electro-Mag Rod. Yelling at the top of my lungs to be heard over the hysteria, I cleared a swath with electric pain to get to her. Cloud and Tifa were right behind me, and while I held the crazies at bay Cloud lifted Schala’s unconscious body and strode powerfully back into the bar.

I snapped out my PHS and speed-dialed, still brandishing crawly little lightning bolts on the end of my nightstick at the panicked ranks of eyes. “Rude, I’m at Seventh Heaven,” I barked into the receiver. “Get your ass over here with those two wastes of space, _now_!” I slammed it shut.

Among the sea of babble I picked out the recurring words ‘stigma’ and ‘Geostigma’ and ‘sick,’ as well as a host of synonyms for ‘person I am related to.’ And one recurring word pitched higher than all the rest in frantic need: ‘DYING.’

I seethed inwardly, alarmed at the mob I was having to hold off alone until reinforcements arrived. Something more precious than a Mako reactor was at stake. Our future was trapped in those ridiculous bones, in that silly pink dress, locked in those too-thin hands placed in my care. And these people would rip her to shreds like pack animals in their mindless yearning.

Sweat trickled down inside my suit as year-long minutes crawled by before the truck screeched up, scattering the bastards. Twyla and Godfrey had failed to protect Schala their first moment, but almost made up for it the way they cordoned off and secured the exterior of the building without being instructed.

Rude stayed on door duty with that silvery stare. I slammed inside. I had to duck immediately to avoid being decapitated by a sword bigger than my entire body.

“Fucking hell, Cloud, why is everything of yours so ridiculously huge?!” I yelled. “Compensating, or what?” I didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t really care except to give vent to my terror and anger. I charged upstairs to the bedroom and found Tifa kneeling beside Schala where she lay on the bed. Tifa swiveled to face me. The two kids sat on the other bed, looking meek and worried.

A green materia glow was fading from the armlet Tifa wore. She rose to her feet.

“She’s asleep,” said Tifa. “Reno, she’s exhausted. Who is she? _What_ is she?”

“I don’t know,” I said, and leaned against the doorway. I rubbed my forehead. “She’s…” My phone rang, interrupting me. “Shit.” I snatched out my phone and opened it. “Yeah, what?”

“Reno, your status?” said the president, in that prim I’m-not-happy voice.

_Shit._ “Sir, we ran into some complications in Edge,” I said. “I’m going to need a lot more resources here to keep her secure. Apparently word’s gotten around and we’re pinned down at Tifa’s bar by a lot of pretty desperate people.”

Rufus sighed heavily. “I’ll make some calls. I need you up here in two hours, regardless.”

“ _Regardless_?! Sir…”

“That’s all, Reno.” He hung up on me.

I clapped my PHS shut in my hand. “Motherfucking…”

Tifa slammed a very strong hand over my mouth and flicked her eyes at the kids, then glared at me. I rolled my eyes.

“Sorry,” I said as she removed her fingers. “I will be so happy when I’m not in charge any more. This sucks.”

“In charge of what?” she said sweetly.

I glared at her. “Anything. There’s too much da… there’s too much work involved. I’m allergic to work.” I glanced down at Schala, a whole pile of unsworn curses building up in me.

Tifa followed my gaze. “That’s the girl who can cure Geostigma, huh?”

“Brilliant, Tif.”

“Don’t vex me. It’s thanks to us she’s alive.”

“Yeah, sorry. Been a long day.” I felt sticky and exhausted. “Is there a shower I can use?”

She laughed sharply.

“Shh, hell, don’t wake her!” I hissed.

Tifa gave me the strangest, longest look I think I’ve ever seen out of her. Then, without words, she pointed across the hall.

“Thanks,” I said. “Won’t be a minute.” Which was a lie, but I promised myself not to use all her hot water. God only knew how many unfortunates she was harboring in that place, and I may be a bastard, but those orphans looked so lost. None more so than Cloud.

I scrubbed vigorously at my hair, trying to forget the way he’d looked at Schala. The way she’d looked at him. The memory ran in my veins like poison.

_She’s not Aerith, you spiky-haired son of a bitch_ , I thought. _Leave her alone._

Thing was, I knew with Cloud on the clock she was safer than anywhere else on the planet. Which pissed me off royally. Also it seemed clear that whatever he had been doing in that church, she was the answer. She’d arrowed straight for it, and him. And though I personally thought he was a bit of a self-righteous asshole, he’s not nearly as selfish as I am. I was about to leave her in the care of a man who was predisposed to worship the ground she walked on, probably literally.

And that, some hot dark corner of my soul knew, was no less than someone like her deserved.

I got out of the worst shower I’d ever had ready to punch through a wall. It took all my restraint and control to get out of Seventh Heaven with not a word to Cloud, and content myself with a little subordinate-abuse of Twyla and Godfrey to put the fear of Reno into them should they fail to protect Schala.

I also shouted quite a lot at the miscellaneous still-loyal soldiers Rufus had mustered from somewhere before storming off to the helicopter with Rude. It was a long, long ride back up the skeletal skyscraper, my arms folded, a tight little ball of stress.

“She can’t be safer than where she is now,” Rude pointed out.

I pivoted slowly to face him. “I _know_ that,” I snarled. I saw from his facial tics he’d just rolled his eyes at me. I glared at him. He didn’t say another fucking word, for which I was enormously grateful. Sometimes he’s smart enough to figure out when not to push me.


	9. Chapter 9

**_Schala—Edge_ **

Dreadful dreams at last released me to a silent, confused waking consciousness. I sat up and gasped when I spotted the blond man sitting in a chair against the wall. His chin lifted from his chest, intense blue eyes flicking at mine.

I cocked my head at him, slid and braced my back against the wall, pushing a pillow up to soften my rest. His arms were folded across his chest.

“I dreamed about you,” I said. “I don’t know what I dreamed, but you were there and I felt safe. Were you guarding my sleep?”

He nodded.

“Thank you.” I folded my arms around my knees and set my chin on them. “There are a lot of people outside with Geostigma, and even more throughout the city. I was unprepared for the intensity of need.”

He released his grasp, hands falling in his lap. “Is that why you came here? To heal the stigma?”

I nodded.

“Do you know what it is?” he said.

I frowned, looking down at the faded plaid pattern of the dingy covers. “I think so. But it’s hard to put into words. …Mostly there are feelings.”

He shifted with a frown. “What kind of feelings?”

I shut my eyes and set my head on one side. “That… something… it’s like a histamine response, but not really, or as a function of something that isn’t in our bodies.”

“A what?”

I cast about for more universally applicable words. This world’s science was different to mine. “An allergic reaction. When the body’s immune system thinks that there’s something it needs to fight off, overreacts, and starts attacking parts of the body itself by mistake. Like getting a rash, or sneezing constantly. But worse, much worse.” I looked up at him. “You know about allergic reactions?”

He nodded. “But… what is the overreaction in response to?”

I shook my head. “No idea.”

His eyes unfocused and he leaned his head back, considering.

“Cloud?” I said.

He came out of his fog. “Yeah?”

“Got a last name?”

“…Strife. Why?”

I shook my head. “Just asking. Why did you stay?”

He frowned. “You’re here to help, right?”

“Didn’t I say that already?”

“Well, so am I.”

I grinned. “You’re sweet.”

He didn’t reply.

I slid my legs out of bed. “Would it be possible for me to take a shower before I start to work again?”

He nodded and stood up. “Bathroom’s across the hall,” he said as he left.

A woman came upstairs as I was dressing after my perfunctory shower and introduced herself as Tifa.

“I want to help,” said Tifa. “What can I do?”

“I can only heal people one at a time,” I said. “I’d like to see the sickest first. Is there some way you can arrange that?”

She nodded. “I can send people in individually in order of need, and the Turks and soldiers can make sure no one else gets in.”

My head whipped up. “Turks? Are Reno and Rude still here?”

She shook her head. “They left shortly after you collapsed. The ones downstairs are called Twyla and Godfrey.”

“Oh. Yeah, of course.” I pulled on my boots. “I didn’t get to say goodbye,” I murmured to myself. I felt empty. My only two friends in the world—not even that—and they were gone. The job was over, for them.

I looked up at Tifa, who smiled at me.

_…Maybe not my only friends._

**_Reno—Healen_ **

I perched on the edge of Tseng’s desk, pinching the bridge of my nose, a massive headache pounding in my temples. I listened to abysmal progress reports from conference-calling survey team leads at North Corel’s newfound oil fields.

The mess of the normally-pristine director’s office had exploded in the three days since I got there. Faxes and folders lay everywhere—floor, desk, all the same to me. Keeping the nonsense straight stretched my brain like taffy and taxed the constraints of horizontal filing space. Drifts of paper piled against the walls.

I had failed to appreciate how much the president relied on the director. I’d felt run over by troop trucks just flying around the planet on missions, falling asleep before my head hit the pillow each night. Now those days seemed carefree, by comparison. I ached for sleep that lasted more than two hours. I craved a shower without taking my PHS with me to hop out and answer, stinging conditioner running in my eyes, halfway through.

I shook my head hopelessly at the mess I’d gotten myself into. _How do you do it, Tseng? And, for the love of god, when are you going to show up?_

I wanted to tell everyone to go hang, but that would just prove my father was right when he’d told me as a kid I’d never amount to anything. So I gritted my teeth and tried harder to be what I’d so carefully convinced everyone I was: bloody Reno of the goddamn Turks.

The call-waiting tone sounded. I glanced down at my caller ID. I groaned inwardly—it was the president’s extension again.

“Hold on,” I said, interrupting the droning of the chief engineer at site number four. I tapped the flash button on the telephone base unit. “Yes, sir?”

“Reno, I need you to get in touch with Cloud Strife and inform him you have a job for him,” said the president. “Have him come up here for a meeting to discuss business. Don’t mention my name.”

My mind raced. “Now?”

“Immediately.” The president hung up.

I scowled. _Doesn’t that just take the cake! I gotta call off the only competent person looking after Schala to come here. Fuck._ I ground my teeth as I dialed Seventh Heaven, leaving Corel on hold. _Oh well, I guess as long as the director and Elena are missing, and those silver-haired weirdos that attacked them are at large, we’ve got bigger problems than whether or not one girl who can’t take care of herself remains… unmolested._

My stomach churned at the thought. “Shit,” I hissed aloud. “Shitshitshit.”

Tifa answered the phone. “Strife Delivery Service. You name it, we deliver…”

“Tifa, it’s Reno,” I said. “Cloud there?”

“He’s downstairs with Schala,” said Tifa. “Want me to get him?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Hey, how are those morons I left holding up? Are they keeping the riffraff at bay?”

Her voice was icy when she responded. “Those ‘riffraff’ are sick people, Reno. They need help, not punishment.”

“Yeah, yeah, just so long as they don’t hurt the person there to help. Just get Cloud, wouldya?”

She clunked the phone down and I heard her footsteps depart. I realized in my agitation I was banging my heels against the fine lacquered wood of Tseng’s desk. I kicked harder in childish irritation. A few moments later I heard a rustle on the line.

“Yes?” Cloud’s impassive voice came through.

“It’s Reno. I’ve got work for you,” I said. “How soon can you get up here?”

He didn’t answer for a moment. “Couple of hours. What about Schala?”

“Eh, Twyla and Godfrey can handle that.” It felt like a bald-faced lie. “C’mon, I know you’re hurting for work. I just wanna help you out.”

“Right.” He sounded almost sarcastic, for someone so repressed. “I’ll be there.” He hung up.

I rolled my eyes and switched the line back to the oil miners. Didn’t even have time to sigh. My boots took out all my frustration on the director’s precious desk, uncaring what Tseng’s reaction to all the dents would be.

***

“When Cloud arrives, test him,” the president ordered me and Rude, shortly before the famous blonde was due to arrive.

“ _Test_ him?” I couldn’t help my incredulity, it was all too much. Especially on top of almost no sleep.

“Yes,” said Rufus. “I want to know he retains his fighting abilities before I detail him to go after dangerous people who threaten our way of life. If he isn’t up to the task we should be aware of that.”

I mentally prepared myself for the ridiculousness of taking him on, fingering my EMR, waiting behind the door. I almost danced with impatience, bobbing on the balls of my feet, experimenting with different ready stances.

I liked the idea of marring that pretty face of his. Not that I hated him. I just resented how much of a hero he was to people in comparison to me, how great everyone thought he was, and what a moody little bitch I privately thought he was.

Then there was the too-fresh memory of the church I was trying desperately to drown in the bathtub of my unconscious, helped along by the sake in the director’s office. I refused to bring that into what I was about to do. I heard a motorcycle engine over the sound of the waterfall outside. The engine shut off. Moments later, footsteps clomped on the stairs beyond the door.

_Finally!_ I thought, bracing. The steps stopped. As the handle turned I swung my rod, and up came that damn great sword, clanging into my weapon.

Infuriated, I charged him. He stepped aside and my momentum carried me out the door. As I spun round, it slammed in my face.

I opened it, my pride smarting, and covered with a smug, “Okay, so you’re good.” He slammed the door again without so much as meeting my eye and I heard the lock click. I sagged back against the rail behind me.

On the other side of the door, I heard deliberate, familiar footsteps. I grinned to myself, imagining my partner preparing for a bare-knuckle display of strength. I called encouragement: “Yeah, Rude! Lookin’ sharp!”

I heard nothing for a moment, then the president’s voice. “Good. You fight like the SOLDIER you once claimed to be.”

“Rufus Shinra?” said Cloud. “Do I feel sorry for you.” 

I tapped my foot, listening to the president’s song and dance. I wished I could curl up in the sun and take a nap. The day had been long already, starting for me before dawn, and this nonsense wasn’t helping my headache.

“I’m still out here!” I called at a break in the conversation, and unsurprisingly got ignored.

Cloud sounded noncommittal. I felt impatient and unsympathetic. He opened the door and paused. Rufus made a last-ditch appeal to the guy’s emotions, a ‘think of the children, let’s save the world’ moment. It was pretty weak, all things considered. I gave the president a boost.

“Come on, Cloud, think about it!” I piped up. “Together, we could rebuild Shinra.”

Cloud threw the door wide and stomped out past me, again not meeting my eyes. “Not interested!”

“Reno!” Rude and Rufus admonished in unison. I glanced over my shoulder at them sheepishly as the door swung shut once more.

**_Schala—Edge_ **

Tifa had put me down for a nap early in the afternoon when she found me shivering so badly I couldn’t sit up straight. I woke with Denzel and Marlene on either side of me in the biggest bed in the house.

The kids had been keeping me warm like this every night. The first time I woke with them there I freaked out very quietly. I do not like people invading my boundaries, even children. But they were so sweet and well-behaved I’d quickly warmed to them.

Everything seemed still, though I felt the tug of sickness outside waiting for me. Something stronger had pulled me out of dreams, though. Something sinister. Something nearby. What I’d felt in the north every night was now very close at hand. Something in me was reacting, just as it had to guide me to those that needed healing, and in a stronger way to Cloud.

I slowly, carefully slid up and out from between the two kids. Inch by inch I got out of bed with barely a stir from either one. I crept to the window and glanced outside. The room was only on the second floor.

I unlatched and lifted the sash, then leaned out a little to look down. I saw Twyla’s brown hair and dark suit from above as she paced the alley below. She reached the corner and looked left and right around the edges of buildings. She stepped out of sight.

_Now or never._

I swung over the sill, lowering my weight onto my arms as I slid down the building. When they reached their fullest stretch I let go and dropped. I felt an unbelievably light landing, bounced up and ran for it, in the other direction from Twyla, toward the danger I felt.

***

My pace quickened as I approached that same church, with a bike that wasn’t Cloud’s parked out front. Whoever or whatever was inside there, I knew I had to stop it by any means necessary. I felt chilliness like healing energy inside me, but with a curious edge to it. The hunger in me to heal now wanted to take life away, and I felt more certain than anything in the world that it needed to be done. It was something I knew I’d once been capable of, albeit under the control of a larger and more sinister force. I could still taste the lingering darkness in my soul, even though it sickened me. I would do what needed doing to protect and heal a world I now yearned to be a part of.

_This must be how psychopaths feel_ , I thought, alarmed but unable to stop myself bursting through the doors.

All hesitancy washed away as the silver-haired man in black form-fitting leather turned to face me. His lip curled in a sneer. Evil just radiated off him and poured out of those dead blue-green eyes. He looked at me as though I was an insect.

“Wanna play?” he said.

I strode forward, breathless, hands clenching into fists.

He snorted, striking a ready stance. “This’ll be _fun_.”

I sprang at him.

He was beyond good. Even Reno would have been vexed by this guy. I felt fortunate for all my training, it was taxed to the limit as I sweated buckets and took a pounding. I slammed into walls, pews, pillars and bounced back at him, working my butt off for every strike that connected.

His electric hand apparatus rammed into me. He carried me all the way across the church into a stone pillar that knocked the wind out of me. He engaged it, smashing the pillar to rubble behind me, filling my body with waves of hot electric pain, and then tossed me aside.

As I struck the flowers I rolled. Green curled around and through me, allowing me to regain my feet and replace pain with freezing, urgent cold. He ran for an open box as I stood up, snatched a red-glowing orb out of it, and slammed it into his arm. It dissolved with a puff of black. In his distraction I managed to slam into him and bear him to the ground, pinning him.

I shut my eyes and held on tight, hoping I could cut off his air long enough for him to lose consciousness. He groaned, but rather than try to throw me, he moved the arm he’d just shoved that ball into.

Thunder crackled overhead. It sounded as though the sky was ripping. I felt the ground tremble. Something pounded in the air, so loud my ears reverberated.

It felt as though an entire wall slammed into me, bodily separating me from my victim, hurling me across the room. I felt the ground hit me and go on hitting me as I rolled bonelessly. It happened so fast I couldn’t even react. Soothing green rolled over me. I managed to get to my feet in time to watch the man carrying the shut case out the doors at a dead run.

Breathless, I still chased after him. I reached the entrance just as his bike roared to life and he peeled out. The gap between me and him widened, dust swirling into my eyes in his wake. Then he was gone. I sensed his horrible energy speeding off beyond sight.

_That must have been that stuff they call materia_ , I thought, remembering the sight of the case earlier when I’d come to heal Cloud. _That asshole stole Cloud’s materia! Hell._

I wiped my smarting dirt-filled eyes and headed back toward Seventh Heaven, dejected and ashamed. I had failed to defeat the threat that had burned in my mind for weeks. I’d failed to do right by Reno’s teaching. I’d failed to keep Cloud from getting ripped off.

I’d failed.

**_Reno—Healen_ **

I hit the ground, trying to cling to consciousness. My ears rang, my whole body consumed with the pain of the thrashing I’d just received.

_How can one little pipsqueak beat the crap out of Rude and Reno of the Turks?_ I thought weakly, distantly aware of my partner groaning on the floor across from me. I was just conscious enough to feel humiliated and disgusted with myself. I couldn’t even move. It hurt to breathe.

I heard the president talking to the little creep who’d trounced us, but individual words were too fleeting to be understood. My PHS rang, buzzing against my chest, but there was nothing I could do.

The door banged open. I managed to peel my eyes open and saw blurs of people pouring into the room, shouting, weapons drawn. I was carefully stepped over, which meant Shinra-friendlies, but this meant I was being seen at my less-than-finest hour by allies.

Cure magic surged through me and my sight cleared. I rolled up to my feet and turned to see Hilo taking to the president by the window. Shinra troops in full gear were pouring out into the sunshine, calling to each other. Rude was dusting off his jacket. I stepped up to the president, who glanced at me.

“Nice timing,” I said to Hilo, masking my shame. “But what are you doing here?”

Hilo swiveled on his heel. I followed his gaze. Sun through the doorway was blocked by two soldiers carrying in a blood- and dirt-covered blonde woman on a stretcher.

“Elena!” I said, darting forward and skipping out of the way as they double-timed it with her down the hall. I watched, heartsick. Another stretcher came in, and this one disturbed me even more—Tseng looked like hell. His wrecked face looked like it had been half shot off. His eyes were barely open, brows drawn in pain. Rufus and Hilo went after them down to the medical bays. I trailed, frowning in alarm, and Rude followed.

The president leaned over the director, talking lowly, as doctors converged on the patients. My phone rang again. I snatched it out, looking in through the doorway at my fallen comrades.

“Reno,” I said into the receiver.

“Sir, it’s Twyla,” was the response.

“Report,” I said.

She hesitated. “Sir… we… we lost Schala.”

This got my attention. I turned away from the distracting situation unfolding through the door. “You _what_?!”

“I’m sorry, sir, we thought she was sleeping and when we went up she was gone… no one’s got any idea where she is…”

I snarled and punched the wall with the phone. It hurt like a motherfucker, and the plastic and metal disintegrated in the force of my fury. Bits of PHS rained on the floor. I looked up at Rude’s raised eyebrows.

“Why am I surrounded by morons and incompetents?!” I demanded of him.

Rude’s lips quirked. “If they were competent, would _you_ be in charge?”

“Don’t start with me, Rude! I do not need this today!” I yelled.

“Reno,” the president’s voice interrupted.

I whirled to face the boss, still seething, and attempted to wipe the glare off.

“Tseng reports that the rest of the group led by our visitor has gone to Edge,” said Rufus. “I believe they may be looking for what we retrieved from the Northern Cave. Take a detail to the city and discover what you can about the people involved. It is imperative we learn what they know and what they think we know.”

“Yes, sir,” I said crisply, and whirled on Rude, who backed off a step. “Spin up the chopper and grab a couple of those soldiers lazing around outside.”

Rude nodded, all too eager to get out of my way. I stalked into the director’s office and slammed the door so hard I heard something fall and smash outside. I ground the heels of my palms into my weary eyes, fingers dug into my hair.

_Damn it, damn it, damn it!_


	10. Chapter 10

**_Schala—Edge_ **

I heard the mob shouting outside Seventh Heaven before I even reached Lockdown Street. My steps slowed and I hung back at the corner, watching the soldiers attempting to hold back a furious horde of desperate people. The two Turks stood at the door, looking harassed.

Someone spotted me. “There she is!”

The entire group broke off to come at me. The urge to run almost overwhelmed me, but I needed to break through. I tightened my hands into fists. A round of machine-gun fire from one of the soldiers split the air. Some of the descending horde slowed or stopped dead, but it didn’t seem to affect the determination in the faces of the others.

Before I knew it, people had closed around me. They struck and spat at me. Their screaming voices overlapped so I had no idea what they were trying to yell at me. I fought back, keeping low to the ground to try to assess every advantage. A motorcycle engine revved like a lion’s snarl, scattering even more as it screeched to a halt beside the crowd.

Tifa got through to me then, and Turks and soldiers poured into the breach she made. Cloud swung off his bike, parking it, and scowled in alarm. He pointed to a waiflike blonde woman standing off to the side.

“What’s going on?” said Cloud.

“Their children were rounded up and driven off in a truck by this stranger with silver hair who promised to cure their Geostigma,” said the woman. “Since she wasn’t here…” the woman pointed at me with a glare, “the kids went.”

“Cloud,” I said urgently. “A silver-haired man broke into the church and stole your case of materia. I’m sorry, I tried to stop him. The Lifestream summoned me there, because it wants to take him. And he’s not alone, but I only sensed another presence, I didn’t see it. They went north.”

“North where?” said Cloud, climbing back on his bike. I swung on after him and settled my hands around his hips.

“I can guide your way,” I said.

He kicked his bike to life and peeled out.

“What are they?” he said over his shoulder to me.

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” I said. “Have you seen them?”

He nodded. “They attacked me on the way to Healen. Said something about… Mother.”

“Yours or theirs?”

“I don’t know.”

Buildings dropped away as we swung onto the northward road out of town.

“Did… did you see Reno and Rude?” I said hesitantly.

He was a while answering. “…Yes.”

“How are they?” I said.

This silence was even longer and more potent.

“You’re really friends with them?” He sounded bewildered.

“Yes,” I said.

“Hmm,” he said, and that seemed to be that.

I let it go. “Keep heading north. They’re still a long way off.” I shut my eyes to focus on that sense of dread, to act as compass, pointing to the magnetic pole of fear and evil.

**_Reno—Edge_ **

“No, sir. They’re not here anymore,” I said wearily into Rude’s PHS. “Witnesses say they took a bunch of kids in a truck.”

“Any particular reason?” said the president mildly.

“No idea. Guy promised he was gonna heal them or some shit like that, sir,” I said. “Apparently Cloud’s gone after them, too.”

“Hmm. Perhaps he reconsidered my offer,” said Rufus. “Did he give you any indication he was amenable to cooperating with us?”

“Haven’t spoken to him, sir. What does the director say?”

“Tseng is sedated. You’re still in charge, Reno.”

“I know, I know. But he’s been in their base in the Forgotten City. I thought he might have said something. Sir.” I hated talking to the president so much. It made me nervous.

The director put up with a lot from me that the president didn’t find amusing at all. I come off as more insubordinate and snide than I am in practice, particularly when I haven’t had enough sleep. I’ll do what I’m told no matter what, but I reserve the right to be snarky while I’m doing it. The president had no patience for my attitude.

“What are your orders, sir?” I said.

“Let’s not be too hasty. Find out what you can in Edge,” he said, and hung up.

Rude immediately held his hand out for his phone. I handed it back with a groan and headed into Seventh Heaven.

Twyla and Godfrey looked up from one of the round little tables. The fear in their eyes didn’t thrill me at all. I pulled out a chair, twirled it round and straddled it, arms draped over the back. Rude’s footsteps stopped behind me, and I felt more than saw him fold his gloved hands in front of him. I leveled my eyes at Twyla, then Godfrey.

“What am I going to do with you two?” I said. “I’d be hard-pressed to find two sorrier excuses for Turks in the entire organization.”

“Sir…” said Twyla.

I slammed my nightstick down on the table, rattling it and upending their glasses. Godfrey jumped up to go for a towel.

“Keep your seat, Godfrey,” I said, more sharply than I intended. He plonked his ass back in the chair, looking pained. I swiveled my glare between them.

“Look, I don’t know how you got these jobs. I don’t even care. If by some miracle Miss Zeal shows up again I’m not entrusting her to you two, but maybe you can be of some use asking around about those silver-haired freaks who came through here and rounded up the sick kids,” I said.

Twyla cleared her throat. “Er… sir?”

I focused on her. “What?”

She cringed. “Cloud Strife went after them.”

“Oh, delivering missives from the Department of No Shit, huh?” I shook my head at her. “Not helping.”

“…Sir, Miss Zeal went with him.”

I thought for sure in my exhaustion I’d misheard. I replayed what she’d just said, frowning. “Why would she…?” I wondered aloud, and remembered:

_“What’s wrong?” I said._

_“I don’t know,” she said softly. “Northward.”_

_“‘Northward’?” I repeated. “What’s northward?”_

_“I don’t know. Something wrong.”_

Mouth open in growing shock, I scrambled to mentally count back the days. _The director and Elena went MIA… two weeks ago. When were we in Nibelheim? Could it have been that same night?_

_Northward. The Northern Cave. And nightmares every night since._

_She knows where they are. Like she knew where Cloud was._

_…But what the hell does it mean?_

I put my head in my hand. “I think we’re in deep shit, partner,” I muttered.

He sounded distant behind me, as if off in Rude-land, where sunglasses grew on bushes. “…Like always.”

**_Schala—Forgotten City_ **

The trees glowed florescent, almost lavender-silver white. An ungodly huge matching full moon hung overhead, so bright I couldn’t make out any stars. The wind whipped around me even clinging tight to Cloud’s back. I was glad I’d wrapped up warm before heading out to the church.

“We’re really, really close,” I said.

The light seemed to grow and grow, coalesce, almost blinding me. Suddenly the motorcycle vanished and I stumbled forward. I straightened, looking around me at a stark white nothing. Cloud was gone. The forest, the night, everything gone but blank whiteness.

“How can we help?” said a gentle voice behind me. I whirled around and nearly punched Aerith in my surprise. A man with spiky black hair beside her reared back, laughing at me. The light faded enough that I saw flowers underfoot, everything else a wash of white. Though it all looked different, it felt familiar.

The Lifestream.

I straightened, looking at Aerith, and nodded to her. She responded in kind.

“It’s going to be a hell of a fight,” said the man. “What can we do?”

I wondered how they existed in the Lifestream, how it was I was inside it again, or if this was some illusion. It seemed more important to try to answer the question than figure out what was happening.

“I don’t know,” I said. “The one who beat me had a weapon, and Cloud’s materia. And he was so fast. I’m not nearly that fast. Or strong.”

She smiled. “That, I can help with.”

When she reached up and touched my shoulder, something flowed into me that I couldn’t see. I felt my heart rev, then slow. My head spun. Pain crested in me. I yelped breathlessly, forced to my knees. She followed me down, never letting up.

“Look after Cloud,” she said. “Keep him safe and healed for me while he fights, all right?”

The motorbike and night slammed back into place around me. Cloud glanced back over his shoulder. He looked startled to see me. I saw movement ahead and pointed urgently. He turned back to the road to see three figures appearing in his headlights ahead. They fired on us.

Cloud strafed the motorcycle to dodge the incoming bullets. The front carapace of the bike sprang open like a fan and Cloud withdrew a giant sword in each hand from inner compartments of it. He continued steering only with his thighs.

Everything seemed to slow, so I could see and sense every detail. My brain felt like a taut violin string, humming with every breath of wind. We neared the three leather-clad figures with shining silver hair—the one on the left my attacker in the church. As we neared I felt almost unbearable tension within me, cool fires roiling, anticipating. The Lifestream filled me to the brim, reaching.

The center figure strode forth, unsheathing a long curved double-bladed sword from behind him and reaching up to beckon overhead. Children started dropping out of the trees, filling the road between us and the strangers. They stared dead-eyed at the approaching motorcycle.

Cloud turned, skidding so hard the bike came out from under both of us. It dragged me for a moment, crushing my leg excruciatingly, but its spin disconnected me. I heard Cloud screaming in pain. Green energy swirled across my vision, releasing the pain from my leg and scraped up body. I scrambled toward him where he lay groaning on the ground. It was like swimming upstream turning my back on the silver-haired men against the Lifestream’s insistent sense I seek their death. But hearing that scream overrode all else.

_Life_ , I thought. _Life above all else. Demands of life before demands of death._

I nearly fell on him, so intense was my struggle to reach him. My hands landed on him, and healing surged out of me into him, freezing me. He looked up over my head. I felt them approach, behind me.

“I’m glad you could make it!” chirped a cruel voice above me.

“I only came for the kids,” said Cloud.

“See this man?” The sword-bearing silver-haired man paced the clearing. “He’s our b…”

Healing shut off. I rolled and sprang, tackling him to the ground. He wasn’t expecting me.

The man writhed in my arms with the ferocity of a snake and agility and strength of a man who’d been fighting his whole life. I clung as tenaciously as I could. He tried to get his sword between us to impale me. I had no idea if the Lifestream could compensate for that, so I rolled him under me and tried to slam it out of his hand. No luck.

I heard gunshots, steel clang, and general fighting noises. My foe at last broke my grasp and whirled to eviscerate me. I saw the sword coming in slow motion and flipped. Something clearly guided my moves.

_Thank you_ , I thought.

I spotted Cloud on the periphery trying to deal with the other two. My guy backflipped an unbelievable distance away. I lunged after him. Something exploded, fountaining dirt and debris into the air. Another silver-haired man landed behind me and I dodged just in time not to get shot. I pivoted and grappled. Sword-guy was gone at this point, and I heard more metal ringing on metal high overhead. He whirled, trying to throw me. I used his momentum to throw him.

The guy from the church dropped in to yank me off gun-haver. I sustained more than a few wounds, freezing from head to toe, extremities numbed as the Lifestream healed me. I periodically checked saw Cloud with a multitude of swords he would break apart or slam together. He was incredible, even better a swordfighter than Reno was at hand-to-hand. He glowed blue with ephemeral fire, which he unleashed on the three men by turns. They also seemed to possess bluish fire to throw at both of us and it was agonizing.

_Materia_ , I thought uncertainly.

Trees fell. Kids scattered. Swords clanged. Gunshots whizzed. I leaped and spun and tackled and landed and poured everything I could into every breath of the fight. Something bore me up past normal endurance.

I heard the sky rumble and split overhead and winced. Someone was using that materia that had defeated me in the church again.

I was knocked off and sent flying. I tucked my head, rolled as I struck and sprang up. I heard bike engines rev and ran for them.

I managed to catch and swing on behind the swordsman, who slammed his sword back into my side and levered me off the bike. I screamed in agony. He flung me to the ground, where I struck and lay while the Lifestream frantically revived me. I groaned weakly. The engines roared away, as did the creepy sense of those three men.

I turned away, arms wrapped around me, and trotted back to find Cloud, limping until I felt healed enough to walk normally. A dark-haired man in a red cape had appeared. He wore armored boots and a clawed gold gauntlet. My steps slowed, mouth coming open.

My eyes flicked as memory seized me, and just for a moment the stranger was my brother Janus, as he was fully grown and traveling under the name of Magus, with a similarly all-encompassing cape and pale skin. My heart twinged painfully. I shook my head to shatter it, to break free of my thoughts’ freezing grasp and step back into the present. He dropped down beside the fallen blond man as I arrived. Green light sparkled over Cloud, reviving him.

“Thanks,” said Cloud. “Vincent, what do you know about this?”

The man who looked like Magus lifted amber-red eyes. “I come here often,” he intoned in a sepulchral voice. He flung his cape aside and approached Cloud. “I’ve seen what Kadaj’s group is doing.” He knelt by Cloud, grasping his elbow.

I walked past the two men with only a lingering backward glance for Vincent. I moved toward a glowing structure like a giant shell. Something gently tugged me. The structure was surrounded by a broad, still pool. I looked down at black water.

Vincent and Cloud spoke in low tones behind me. I saw my face reflected darkly in the pool. I felt sick. I knelt by the water, reaching for it.

A hand grabbed my wrist, startling me. I jerked, but Vincent held me fast, fiery eyes inches from mine. Up close the resemblance was terrifyingly uncanny.

“I wouldn’t drink that,” he said, releasing me. I rose, frowning at him as he stalked back over to Cloud, heart still in my wordless mouth.

I looked back down at the water. I extended my foot to it with a thoughtful frown. Before I knew it, I was wading in, and green spiraled out of me through the black.

What poured into the water and out of me was pretty powerful. I shuddered. It grew to fill the pond. Threads twined up above the surface, into the air, weaving, crossing, spinning, dancing all around me. I lifted my head and saw them joining above me, a cocoon of the Lifestream. I felt so drained I couldn’t leave my eyes open.

At last the rush faded. I looked down into silvery water rippling softly around me. I turned and waded back to shore, bent and shivering, arms tight around me. I felt as though I’d bathed in ice.

A spindly gloved hand extended to me. I looked up at Vincent, trembling. I took his hand and he helped me up out of the water. Seeing me still violently shivering, he hurled off his red tattered cape and settled it round my shoulders. I pulled it tight about me.

“Thank you,” I said to him, more touched than I could say. “I’m Schala Zeal.”

“Vincent Valentine,” he said, searching my eyes for a long moment.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I tore my attention from him to turn to Cloud. “I’m sorry, Cloud. I’m so sorry I failed. The Lifestream helped me fight, it’s just that materia is brutal. Please give me another chance.”

“You didn’t fail.” Cloud lowered his eyes. “I failed.”

“Are you kidding? You were incredible. I’ve never seen anything like that.” I approached and knelt beside him. “Hey. What’s going on?”

He shook his head.

I put my arm around him and leaned in to kiss his forehead. His bright blue eyes lifted. “I believe in you,” I said. “Everyone does. I know you can do this. Your skills and experience have given you what you need, not to mention your heart. Come on. What are we waiting for? Let’s go save the world. And you look damn fine doing it, Mr. I-just-roll-out-of-bed-and-my-hair-naturally-does-this.”

Cloud’s eyebrows sprang up.

I grinned at him. “Get your swords. Get the bike. There’s work to do. Vincent, are you coming with us?”

Vincent leaned against a tree, arms folded, foot braced behind him. “I can’t.”

I tried not to let my disappointment show. I knew he wasn’t my brother, but his kindness to me and his presence reassured me in familiar ways. I took off his cape and handed it back. “Thanks for the loan.”

He frowned at me while Cloud trotted off to retrieve the bike. “Where did you come from?”

“Does it matter?”

“I suppose not.” Vincent glanced over at the blonde sheathing his swords in the forward bike housing. “How sure are you that you two can beat Kadaj and his gang?” Vincent said to me.

“I won’t know unless I keep trying. If I gave up when the fight was over, I’d be dead now.” I trotted over to Cloud as the bike roared to life, waving at Vincent.

“Are sins ever forgiven?” Cloud asked me as I swung on behind him, glancing over his shoulder.

“Whose forgiveness do you need?” I said. “Or want?”

He took off in lieu of a response. I curled around his back.

“Damn, it’s cold!” I hissed.

“You should’ve kept his cape. Then he’d have to come after us. I’ve never seen him without it before.”

I laughed. “You’ve got some weird friends, Cloud.”

“You’re one of them.”

I thrilled. “Yes. I’m one of the weirder ones.”

“Not even close. You are not weirder than Vincent Valentine.”

“He’s cute, though.”

“ _Cute_?!” He shook his head. “Cute. You’ve got a thing for Turks?”

“Vincent’s a _Turk_?”

“Was. Once.”

I giggled. “Damn, I’d love to see him on a detail with Reno and Rude! Can you imagine?”

He fell quiet at this, thoughtful.

“We could sell tickets,” I added.

He still said nothing.

“I can see Reno trying to give him orders. And Vincent fucking off and doing his own thing.”

“Oh, my god,” he muttered.

“Rude would be secretly seething because Vincent is so much more forbidding and imposing. He’d be clandestinely trying to emulate Vincent’s most terrifying traits, and getting it horribly wrong.”

“…You have a vivid imagination.”

“It keeps me company.”

That seemed to end that conversation, so I focused on keeping warm.

“Schala,” he said.

“Yeah?” I said.

“When you say that the Lifestream wants to take Kadaj’s gang… what does that mean?”

“It’s a feeling. Like the healing. The planet feels threatened. The Lifestream can’t just take them itself; they have free will. There has to be a catalyst to break their hold on physical existence. I was given a blessing in being able to heal Geostigma, and whatever injuries we may experience fighting. I will do what I can to help return them to the Lifestream. To protect the planet.”

“How is the planet threatened by them?”

“…I don’t know. It’s a feeling.”

“They’re looking for Jenova. I think they’re trying to recreate Sephiroth.”

“Can they do that?”

“Vincent seems to think so.”

I frowned. I didn’t know too much about Sephiroth, mostly rumors and stories. “You defeated him once before. Do you think you could do it again?”

He sighed. “I don’t know. …You know I have Jenova cells in me as well?”

“Well… you were in SOLDIER, right?”

“…No. Not exactly.”

“Does it matter?”

He gave me another of his trademark silences. “I guess not.”

I squeezed him. “I’ll be there with you. Me and the Lifestream—we’ll do our part to help keep him from coming back. And if he does, we’ll help you fight.”

He shook his head. “No. This is my fight.”

“It’s for the planet. It’s everyone’s fight.”

He sighed. “I’m worried. I don’t want to watch you die.”

“Have a little faith. Come on. I’m not _that_ weak.”

“That’s not… I…”

“I know, Cloud. You just want to protect everyone, don’t you?”

He sighed again.

“Well, some of us want to protect you too. That’s what friends are for.” 

“Schala. Promise me that if Sephiroth shows up, you’ll leave him to me.”

“If Sephiroth shows up, it may take everything we all have to put him down again. I can’t make that promise. I can’t fail the responsibility of what power I was given.”

He was quiet for a while. “Neither can I,” he murmured.

“It’ll be okay. If I go back to the Lifestream, I’m glad I got a chance to make things better here. I nearly died once, and it saved me, and in return, I saved others. That’s more than I could have hoped to achieve on my own.”

Since this time he shut up for good, I let my thoughts drift and tried to huddle out of the slipstream pushing its icy stabbing fingers right through me.

I felt more grateful than I knew how to say that I had this time and this friendship. I missed Reno and Rude, so badly it hurt. Divorced of more immediate worries on the long ride back south, chasing the silver-haired men and the kidnapped children, I had too much time to think and feel everything I’d been avoiding.


	11. Chapter 11

**_Reno—Edge_ **

I smelled a fight. It revived me with adrenalin, and the thrill of doing something violent and substantial to vent my massive frustration. Rude and I arrowed for the heart of chaos in Edge’s monument square. People fled and screamed in the path of rampaging monsters. A ring of zombielike kids stood all around, staring creepily at the ground.

Two silver-haired leather-clad clowns had hooked chains up to the Meteorfall sculpture and were tugging on them.

“And what are we up to?” I said, tapping my EMR on my shoulder.

The two louts twisted to scowl at us.

“We know Mother is here,” said the long-haired clown in a mellifluous voice, gesturing at the memorial behind them.

“Oh, yeah?” said Rude, on my right.

“Yeah,” said the beefy short-haired tool. “This… thing… monument-thing…? Shinra made it.”

_Real couple of intellectuals, these two._ I smirked. “So you think we hid her here.”

“Did you?” purred Longhair.

“Why ask us?” Rude said smoothly.

“Where we hid her is classified info!” I said, and gave Rude a snicker. _Would you look at these two?_

“Aha,” said Longhair. “Seems you _do_ have something to hide.”

I glanced back, eyebrow raised, and my brain helpfully replayed everything Rude and I had just said. _Aw, fuck! Now they know we know where Jenova is!_ I scowled, stammered, but the cat was out of the bag. I turned on Rude in my frustration. “Rude! You and your big mouth!” He shifted, looking ashamed, unable to meet my eyes.

_Screw this!_ “Hi _yaaaa_!” I charged at them, brandishing my nightstick.

We’d hardly gotten started on their asses when the sky erupted and I looked up. A large creature with wings formed out of the broiling clouds, diving for the memorial, scattering what people still remained. It looked like some form of Bahamut summon. I charged forth, whirling my nightstick, ready to open up some serious hurt on it.

My depth perception must have been shot to hell by sleep deprivation. The thing perched on the monument was enormous, gigantic, gargantuan. Nervous laughter spilled out of me as I looked up and up and up in shock and horror.

“Hel-lo…!” I said.

“Hell, _no_!” said Rude.

I was inclined to agree. I whirled and took off, retreating victoriously for safer ground.

I spotted one of those freakin’ zombie kids, frozen in place, and skidded to a halt to pick him up. The little fucker fought me, trying to push me off, shoving fingers up my nose. I was already out of breath and nearly choked, panting through my mouth.

Movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. Beefy was in the act of springing at me. I swept the kid up in my arms and vamoosed just in time to avoid the joker. I caught up to Rude, who’d somehow acquired a child under each arm. I heard a building, screaming whine splitting the air above and behind me.

“Is it after us?!” I yelled.

“I’m not looking!” Rude yelled back.

An explosion hurled us screaming down a side street. I blacked out for a minute.

When I came to, I was faceplanted on the rough pavement, child gone, but still holding the EMR. I heard Rude grunt beside my head as I prised my aching face from the street. The barrel of my nightstick scraped across asphalt. I pushed the ground from my smarting body, then heard soft laughter behind me.

My head swiveled. The silver-haired clowns stood over us.

“Having fun yet?” cooed Longhair.

_Oh, this shit is_ on _!_ I tensed. “The time of my _life_!” I rose spinning, a roundhouse kick the asshole dodged. I swung my rod up at the same time, which I then cleaved down at his smug little face.

He backflipped, dodged my swings, and blocked my kicks with his arms. He swiveled and administered one of his boots to my face, knocking me back on the street.

I scrambled up and charged him. “When are you gonna call it a day?” He leaped back and up onto a building roof behind him.

“What? Just as soon as you give back Mother, that’ll be the end of everything.” He sounded so undisturbed as I glared up at him.

_Smarmy little shit!_ I scrambled up the side of the building, hands and feet grabbing hold wherever they could, building speed. When I reached the top I somersaulted into the air and came down right where he suddenly wasn’t anymore.

I chased him back along the rooftop. He just kept blocking my best moves.

“Forget your little reunion and _get a grip_!” I snarled. I whirled the EMR at his head repeatedly.

“All we want is to be with Mother!” He kicked me all the way across the street into a billboard for Loveless, which smashed free of its moorings and tumbled to the street below. I followed, landing on something soft that yelped in a familiar voice.

I peeled myself off Rude, groaning. My foot smashed his glasses—yet again. I heard him gasp. I noticed as I was looking down how unbelievably filthy this punishing fight had made me, and got distracted with brushing myself off.

“Mother, schmother,” I muttered. “It’s Jenova’s fuckin’ head!”

“Hey!” said Beefy.

“I will not have you refer to Mother that way!” said Longhair.

“You _meanie_!” Beefy added in a tearful whine.

_Oh, please_ , I thought.

“Our apologies,” said Rude, putting on a fresh pair of glasses.

“Your ma’s cool,” I added disingenuously, and realized what I’d just said. My head flipped up. “What the hell am I _saying_?!”

I ran and leaped just as Longhair did. Finally my strike connected, hurling him right into the ground, and I dropped to a crouch. It felt so fucking good, even though it still seemed my entire body was bruised.

I gave a thumb’s-up to my partner, who’d decked Beefy in the meantime. I rose and turned just in time for my jaw to meet Beefy’s armored fist. I was knocked flying into Rude, and carried backward down half the street until my body struck the pavement again.

Leather boots dropped down behind my head as I struggled to get up. Rude and I stood back to back, panting, wincing. I felt blood running out of my nose. I squinted through the pain at Longhair.

A substantial streak of darkness slammed into him horizontally and carried him flying backward, to strike the street. The deep blackness seemed attached to him, and also wore black boots.

“Don’t you _touch_ him!” hissed a voice, so angry I wouldn’t have recognized it if not for her bright blue hair.

“Ohh, _yeah_!” I yelled, and whirled around to face Beefy. “That’s what _I’m_ talking about!”

Rude had also caught on to what was happening and the two of us punched Beefy simultaneously. I heard a howl of pain behind me and grinned; Schala didn’t cry out. That morale boost was just the second wind I needed to kick it up a notch. Rude and I focused our joint forces on Beefy.

Unfortunately these guys, even singly, were a match for Rude and Reno of the Turks. Beefy smashed Rude aside and hurled me a good distance away. I yelped.

“ _Fuck_!” I heard Schala yell. I glanced up to see her actually break off from her long-haired opponent as Beefy bore down on me.

She barreled at him, reaching him right before he reached me. I sprang up and kicked for his head. She went for his crotch. Together we took him down.

She sat on his back, pummeling his kidneys. He bucked and writhed and rolled over on her. She grunted. He swung his legs up to try to spring and right himself. I brought my EMR down right between his legs. He slammed his elbow back into Schala, who went ‘oof.’

Meanwhile Longhair and Rude had another confrontation Rude lost, and the former snuck up behind me and administered a deeply painful blow to my left kidney. I collapsed to my knees with a scream.

Beefy lifted and slammed Schala into the ground, breaking her hold. Rude ran up and Beefy sprang to his feet to assault my partner again, knocking him far back and chasing after him. I crouched and dodged as Longhair went for another strike on me. Schala leaped on him. I pushed off to join her.

Our paired assault on either side of him crystallized perfectly, our blows landing in different areas of his body, not interfering, falling with a perfect rhythm. A rhythm I’d taught her. She’d acquired speed and agility beyond what I’d seen before. Longhair was forced into a continual retreat and that goddamn omnipresent smirk finally vanished.

Her panting, her grunts and all of mine chorused together. Our bodies, honed and trained, moved in concert to the same purpose. It was one thing to fight her—it was another thing entirely to fight alongside her. Allies, comrades, our give and take complementing each other instead of clashing.

That shared awesome flow was thrown when Beefy grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her backward. She yelped in pain. It turned into a scream as his electrified fist drove into her back and engaged with a sound like a gunshot.

My rage crested. Her noise turned me into a ball of thoughtless fury. I foolishly turned my back on Longhair and flew at Beefy. This at the same time Rude reached him, so the two of us connected our assault on the asshole holding Schala.

She wrenched around in Beefy’s grasp and grabbed his throat in the midst of our three-on-one crushing hug. Beefy jerked, gasping. I was close enough to Schala to smell her sweat, to see her eyes reflect the green healing her body, to see her ferocity as she stared into Beefy’s eyes. She was going to kill him, I felt certain of it, and wouldn’t rest until she did.

Longhair grabbed me and hauled me off them, hurling me to the pavement again. My face was really bloodied now, my body feeling like one giant bruise.

I scrambled up in time to see Longhair turn and shoot Schala in the back. She dropped to the ground.

“Fucker!” I howled, and dove on Longhair.

Schala rose, her back lit up with healing green spirals of light. Beefy punched Rude over his shoulder.

I heard a gunshot and explosion high overhead and looked up to see Rufus tumbling off the building we were standing beside. The third silver-haired circus freak dove after him.

“Sir, no!” Rude and I yelled simultaneously.

The president twisted midair and fired his weapon downward, and I saw the black glossy sample box tumbling through the air below him. The silver-haired man stretched for it. Rufus was shooting at him. He missed and hit the case, which twirled in the air.

My president was plummeting to his death. I ran forward. Before I could reach the foot of the building, a bandaged Tseng and Elena appeared out of nowhere and fired diagonal shots across under him. Twin crossed nets popped open just in time to catch Rufus’s body. My heart started beating again.

I swiveled and saw the three silver-haired morons swing onto motorbikes, one with the case under his arm. They sped off into the city.

Schala was looking in the opposite direction, in a ready crouch. A fourth motorbike was approaching, glossy black. The rider’s spiky blonde hair couldn’t be mistaken. Schala leaped onto the back of the bike as it flew by, wind ruffling my hair and clothes. I turned to see the president climb out of the net and stand before me, Rude, Tseng and Elena, unharmed.

I grabbed Tseng’s arm, ignoring his hiss of pain. “You’re in charge again, right?” I snapped. I didn’t give him time to do more than start to form a bemused look. I released him to grab Rude’s PHS out of his jacket and flip it to two-way radio mode. “I need the chopper on the ground, _now_!”

**_Schala—Edge_ **

As harrowing and painful as it felt to be under the bike when Cloud wiped out, it was nothing compared to what transpired when we chased the silver-haired men through the city.

Cloud was having a swordfight. On a motorbike.

Two of the silver-haired men sprang from bike to bike without any momentum apparently lost or drift in direction. Also their motorbikes had guns. A black helicopter soared up out of nowhere and swiveled to provide air support while Cloud went after Kadaj.

The helicopter blew up an overpass behind us. I watched the pavement and concrete and steel twist and collapse in an order of magnitude that took my breath away.

One of the bikes flew out of the mess and up at the helicopter. Amazingly, the chopper did not explode right away, but soon lost control and crashed trailing smoke on the highway almost on top of us. Cloud swerved judiciously at the right moment to save us.

Still those two bikes came after us. We entered a tunnel and the fight became grueling. Whenever one of them landed on Cloud’s bike we both fought and somehow the bike kept going. I had to overcome my terror and take a leap of faith. The Lifestream had been helping me with physical assists and speed.

_Don’t fail me now_ , I thought, gathering my legs under me and leaping off Cloud’s bike.

I don’t know how I did it. I didn’t know if I could do it again. But I landed on the back of the short-haired man’s bike and struck at him. He fought to fling me off and I kicked and bit and tried to throw him from the bike.

He hurled me into the air and leaped after me, raining blows on me in the air. I twisted, filled with pain and cold and terror, suspended high above the still-moving bikes below. I managed to drop down back onto Cloud’s. Before I could think about it I sprang back into the air, intercepting the long-haired man as he aimed for Cloud.

I felt worse than useless. Cloud clearly was trying to protect me and my assistance was not a speck on his fighting skill, even with the boosts the Lifestream had given me. It took all our effort to defeat just one, me holding on to the short-haired man with all my might and Cloud impaling him with the fusion sword on the back of Cloud’s bike.

Gunshot. Cloud arched with a sharp cry and wince even as the short-haired man dissolved to green swirling dots of light in my grasp. I flung the dissolving body aside and lunged forward to grab Cloud and the handlebar of Fenrir, desperate even though I knew I couldn’t drive a motorbike.

Green Lifestream energy poured out of me as Cloud flipped over and took over the controls, leaning down into the wind. More gunshots followed us. I glanced over my shoulder, turning, ready to jump. The silver-haired man drew alongside us and I leaped.

He shot me in the air, but I barely felt it, Lifestream healing me right away. As he twisted and I landed behind him, I grabbed him, braced and heaved. He shot me in the face as I threw him upward with all the might the Lifestream had given me.

I screamed and covered myself with my hands. This pain was intense, and ebbed slowly as coolness poured through me. I felt the bike thrumming under me, a pounding and roaring in my ears. I knew I had to heal quickly or that man would be on top of me with his gun-sword again.

When I looked up Cloud was way down the tunnel, diminishing silhouette against the distant prick of sunlight. The air overhead was clear, and no one was driving the bike.

I yelped and scrambled forward to grab the handlebars. It’s a terrible thing to learn how to use a motorcycle while it’s in high-speed motion. It was huge, heavy, but terribly sensitive to me shifting my weight.

_Aerith—Lifestream—someone please help!_ I thought frantically. The thing wove and wobbled under me. I discovered the throttle and eased up on my velocity even though this increased the distance between me and Cloud, whom I’d promised to assist and protect. My heart pounded painfully in my chest, arms practically tingling in fright. I gradually grew more used to the feel of the monstrous machine under my control.

The Lifestream’s pulse in me was urgent and freezing cold. I sensed danger up ahead that blotted out all thought. Something bigger than I cared to imagine unfurled around me.

_If I want to live in this world—if I want to love in this world—and I do—I have to do what I can to stop this._

I ground my teeth and put on speed.

**_Reno—Edge_ **

Rude and I waited at the mouth of the tunnel, Tseng and Elena hovering watchfully overhead. They’d rescued us after our chopper crashed. I was starting to think that, like the director and the president, we also had nine lives.

I hefted my package of explosives with its currently-frozen digital timer. I felt more tense than bored, so whistling wouldn’t cut it—I had to talk.

“Hey, partner,” I said to Rude. “This thing got any bite to it?” I glanced at him, then back at the tunnel. It felt as though we’d been waiting for hours for them to emerge.

“Shinra technology at its finest,” said Rude, holding up his own.

“Oh, you made this,” I said distractedly, squinting into the tunnel’s depths.

“It’s nothing if not… _flashy_ ,” said Rude.

I only half-heard him. I thought I saw a flickering light ahead in the distance. I couldn’t hear over the damn chopper overhead. I strained my every sense forward, waiting, watching.

“Come on, come on, come on, come on…” I hissed.

It took ages for that possibly-imaginary spark to grow into a definite cluster of headlights. Then I heard the bike engine, moments before it burst out into view.

Cloud rode alone. He tore past between us. I spun around, mouth open.

“Where is she?” I shouted after him, already almost out of sight. “Where _is_ she?! You spiky-haired bastard, if you left her in there I will _end_ you!”

Rude snorted at me in disbelief. I turned back to the tunnel, panicked, dismayed.

“We can’t blow it!” I shouted to Rude.

“No shit,” said Rude.

“She’s still in there! God _damn_ it!” I cried. _Is she dead?_ Seconds crawled by. Minutes fell on me, each with its own special pain and panic of not-knowing.

A second headlamp appeared and enlarged out of the darkness. I sucked in a breath and held it. As the bike approached I saw slanting afternoon sun light up wildly whipping blue hair.

Tingly, cool relief washed through me. Just minutes after nearly losing my best friend and feeling that heart-stopping fear turn to utter joy as I found him clinging to life and the bottom of the chopper, I was feeling it again.

She whipped past, face covered in blood but etched with determination. Rude and I deposited our packages and grabbed the rope swinging from the helicopter.

As we swung away, I peered excitedly back to watch the mess unfolding. The roar on the air, blast of heat and vibration thrumming through my bones and nearly deafening me, the crackling spark of gunpowder, thrilled me primally.

Three colossal explosions, an aerial attack, and I’d nearly died. I couldn’t remember when I’d had so much fun. I clambered up the rope whipping in the breeze. Rude helped me up into the cabin, where Elena was already waiting.

I grinned at him. “Thanks, partner. Whaddya say we see what other damage we can do, huh? We’re on a roll!” I climbed forward into the co-pilot’s seat, grabbing a free headset.

“Good to have you back, sir,” I said with feeling to Tseng.

He nodded, his bandaged face tilted to look out the window as we hove after the remaining three bikes on the highway.

“Heads-up, Highwind,” I said, pointing at the airship also moving into position above the ruined Shinra building in Midgar’s desolate center.

“So I see,” said Tseng, adjusting our trajectory. “The young woman who heals Geostigma—she is fighting alongside Cloud?”

“Damn right,” I said proudly. “I taught her everything she knows.”

“Fighting Kadaj? Who caused serious grievous injury to all four senior Turks even in pairs?” he said.

“Er…” My throat tightened. Suddenly I didn’t feel so good about just letting her drive by.

“My understanding is, she was under your protection.”

“Yeah, until the boss called me back to Healen. I had to…”

“Geostigma still prevails in Edge and she is its only remedy.”

“I…”

“We must retrieve her immediately.”

I saw the leading two bikes clash and slide down a dirty slope. We were still out of gun range.

“Think you’re right, sir,” I said. I’d trained her as well as I could but I knew she was woefully unprepared for what she was facing, even with Cloud.

**_Schala—Edge/Midgar_ **

I limped whimpering to where the bike lay on its side on the highway, where I’d wiped out. The Lifestream took away my pain and left me cold, but apprehension remained as I reached the bike.

Bright white light and flowers slammed into place around me. I stopped, swaying, startled.

“I’m hurrying as fast as I can!” I snapped, still upset from my harrowing crash.

“Don’t have motorcycles in your world?” said the man with spiky black hair, beside me with folded arms and a curiously kind grin.

“I… yes, but… not always… it’s complicated,” I said, flustered. “I’ve never driven one.”

“Let me guide you.” He reached toward me and the field of flowers vanished, leaving the sunset highway and waiting bike. I felt thick fuzziness in my head like a hangover as I lifted it, yet somehow nimbly swung a leg over.

“ _Hurry…_ ” I heard Aerith’s urgent voice in my mind.

A presence took over my movements. I watched, a horrified passenger in my own skin, as my hands revved the throttle and my body jerked like a marionette. I panicked. I was sent right back into trapped terror of the Time Devourer possessing my body, using my power while I watched helplessly.

_No, no, no!_ I thought. _I can’t do this!_

A moment of sheer panic overrode reason.

 _“It’s all right,”_ I heard the man’s voice in my mind, and with it I saw his face, knew his name: Zack. _“I won’t hurt you.”_

_You can do this,_ I told myself. _That was then. This is now. Open up and trust them. They saved your life. They gave you power to help, to save people you care about._

The highway flew by underneath me, as fast as it could go. Overhead, the sky darkened abruptly with an ominous swirl of clouds.

**_Reno—Midgar_ **

I focused on the blue flicker of Schala’s hair, ignoring the frenetic swordfight as not-my-problem. That shit was up to Cloud at this point.

I saw Schala spring off the bike she rode and soar up into the air. A green hazy glow like an afterimage trailed her body. I breathlessly watched her awesome trajectory. The silver-haired man leaped into her path, so focused on Cloud he didn’t see her coming from behind.

I noticed the length of the hair and the uniform. _That’s not one of those creeps…!_ Horror crashed over me. _…That’s Sephiroth!_

She slammed into the son of Jenova and knocked him off his trajectory, vanishing out of sight. I scrambled up and back into the cabin of the chopper, ditching my headset as I went, heart in my throat. _Sephiroth is back! Oh my fucking Holy, we’re all going to die—starting with her!_

I felt the helicopter dropping, lifting my feet off the deck, and clung to the handrail inside the cabin door as I heaved it open and looked down into a nightmare.

I didn’t see how it happened, I only saw the flash of eerie grey light off the needle-like Masamune sword he held up. She’d been skewered on the end of it, twitching.

“ _NO_!” I screamed. I saw Cloud running for them with his giant-ass sword, but it was already too late. And so was I.

**_Schala—Midgar_ **

As soon as the sword entered me, saw a flash of glowing falling petals and heard Aerith’s voice: “ _…sorry. I stopped looking for alternatives when you showed up. It was easier just to use you. I’m so sorry. Just let go, Schala…_ ”

My anger sparked in response. Faces flamed in my thoughts—Cloud, Tifa, Denzel, Marlene, Cid Highwind, Nanaki, Godo Kisaragi, Reno, Rude, Rufus, the people whose lives I’d touched, those who’d been kind to me in return. My face tightened in a grimace of determination.

I gasped for breath, reaching with shaky arms for the sword paralyzing and suspending me off the ground. I could see pale grey eyes with a cat’s sociopathic curiosity looking up at me.

I thought of Serge as I grasped the narrow blade impaling me. I couldn’t feel pain anymore. I pulled myself down toward that dreadful contemptuous expression. Blood was running down the sword and soaking my clothes.

Vincent, I saw. I remembered Magus—Janus; my mother, the kindness in her eyes before Lavos exerted its influence over her. Lucca. Crono. Nadia. Glenn. Robo. Ayla. Those I loved and who would never be mine to protect or see once more.

I pulled harder for them, and for those in this world who would be as insects to this man looking up at me like one. Cloud. Rude. Reno.

It stuck and slid so slowly. I had to force it through my thick meaty body. I stretched out, hand over hand, to grasp again and again and pull. My hands bled.

When I thought darkness would consume me, I kept pulling for Aerith. For Zack. For Serge. For me.

I saw that smooth, pale face. His head tilted. He seemed mildly bemused by his doomed prey’s determination. I dragged myself inch by hard-won inch down the sword.

He glanced away. His other hand swung up to the sword and, continuing the same motion, he flicked the sword to fling me off. As I glided through the air, my sight filled with red just before it went black. Faces I loved swirled away from me down a drain like a Gate.

To my chagrin, my last thoughts were of Reno: _I wish I had given in and kissed you, and had just one night with you… I wish I’d felt that again before death._

I felt no landing, just weightless flight and then unconsciousness.

**_Reno—Midgar_ **

I dropped to the metal and stone roof and immediately began to run. I slid as I hit my knees and stopped beside her. She lay where she’d been thrown like a broken doll. No reassuring green glow poured out of her. I reached for her.

“Schala! _Schala_!”

She lolled limply in my arms. I was kneeling in a nearly-black lake of her lifeblood. I dimly heard the clash and crackle of Cloud and Sephiroth resuming their fight in the near distance. I also heard a roar of airship propellers, and the rotor of the hovering chopper overhead.

I shook, holding her. For a minute all I knew was despair. Tifa crouched down on the other side of Schala, along with that Wutai brat holding an armful of materia.

Anger rocketed through me like a thundercrack and electrified me. I straightened, turned and ran. I had only one purpose now: kill the freak who had done this to her. 

“Reno!” Tifa yelled. “Leave him! It’s Cloud’s fight now!”

I was intercepted by Rude, who grabbed on and held fast. I pivoted on my heel and drove my clenched fist right into the bridge of his sunglasses. He went down like a tree.

I only managed to get about another two feet before a metal fist like a piledriver smashed into my face and knocked me on my ass. Darkness exploded with stars. My ears rang. I blinked and saw Barret standing over me, a satisfied quirk to the corner of his mouth. I glared up at him with all the hating fire of hell.

A cool, gentle touch on my cheek turned my head without thought. Green glowed around Schala as my eyes met hers.

I grabbed her, yanked her against me and wrapped my arms around her. My fingers dug into blood-soaked clothes and hair. I buried my head in her shoulder.

“Lyrant,” her lips murmured by my ear.

“Bami,” I said. Kneeling, I held her in my arms with the intensity of a starving man feasting.

She pulled away. I lifted my head with a groan of protest. She wasn’t looking at me, but up and away, past me. I released her as I turned to look, still on my knees. In the distance, Sephiroth was trouncing Cloud. She broke into a run.

I leaped up and dove after her in fresh waves of panic. I caught her and bore her to the ground. She fought to stand up. I tugged her back down. She seemed possessed.

“No!” I hissed in her ear, frantic. “You can’t fight him! He slaughters armies! Only Cloud has ever defeated him!”

“Reno,” she said, never taking her eyes off the fight, “if Cloud doesn’t succeed, I have to fight. He could destroy everything. And I don’t want this world to end.”

I shook my head. “You’re not going anywhere without me.”

At last she turned to me with a depth of fear I’d never seen before etched on her features.

“Or me,” Rude added, on her other side. We glanced up at him. He’d replaced his glasses again. He nodded to us, arms folded in front of him. We nodded as well and rose to our feet to watch the battle for our world and our lives.

It still seems so unbalanced that such a high-stakes battle could be fought only by those two. I don’t have enough faith in anyone to trust the fate of a planet to them. But it wasn’t my choice, really. That’s why they call it ‘destiny.’

It was Sephiroth’s destiny to come back, Cloud’s destiny to fight him again. It was ours to watch and feel helpless and inadequate. Schala’s arm and mine were around each other. She shivered in the abusive wind.

It looked like the battle was over. Sephiroth impaled Cloud and flung him down on the ground, much like Schala, and hovered in the air on one black wing. She tensed in my arm, tried to pull away, and I held onto her hard, hissing, “No, no, no…” in her ear. She struggled fiercely, and at last threw me off. I ran after her.

Cloud somehow regained his feet, leaking blood everywhere, and leaped into the air, swinging that sword around. As he met Sephiroth in midair, the sword broke apart into half a dozen blades, all glowing with the light of a Limit Break.

Cloud zipped back and forth through Sephiroth with those blades. Feathers flew. Black dust scattered. The general hung in a cage of sheer punishing Cloud-rage. Schala and I skidded to a halt. We watched with open mouths and wide eyes as the blond SOLDIER reject took that fucker down. Sephiroth’s wing closed around him and dissolved, melting his image away.

_God fucking damn, yes!_ I thought gloriously. It may not have been me, but I can still get a thrill from watching a truly fine piece of successful fighting.

That punk Kadaj dropped out of the mess, released like a puppet. Schala jerked back into a run and leaped.

**_Schala—Midgar_ **

I landed unexpectedly gently on tiled concrete. Cloud knelt, holding Kadaj’s panting, prone body in one hand and one of his swords in the other, off to the side. He looked up as I landed by them and sank to my knees. I slid my arms under Kadaj, whose catlike blue-green eyes focused on mine.

He looked frightened, like a little boy. I thought of the beds of dying Earthbound Ones I’d visited in my youth, their similar pleading eyes, and what I’d said to them as they faced their final rest.

“It’s all right,” I murmured, as a gentle green glow surrounded us. “Everything’s all right, Kadaj.”

“Mother…?” he whispered.

“You can let go now,” I said. “Just let go. It’ll be all right.”

He lifted his hand toward my face. It dissolved into strands of the Lifestream before it touched my skin. His body lifted and dissipated, and coolness breezed upward past my face.

I transferred my gaze and grasp to Cloud. The cold poured into him, green fizzling all over his skin and body beneath his clothes. His over-bright wide blue eyes searched mine. I realized he’d shifted to support me, and I was leaning heavily into him, barely upright. Blood spattered his face and hair.

At last the cold green Lifestream, which I never thought would cease, stopped flowing through me. It was like having the rug torn from under me. I fell onto his arm, which bore me up admirably. He dropped his sword with a clatter and reached around with the other one, cradling me.

“Nap,” I said desperately, before I passed out.

**_Reno—Midgar_ **

I cleared my throat. Cloud looked up as I squatted down by him.

“Can I take that off your hands?” I said.

A gunshot shattered the moment. He half-fell forward over her. My head flipped up. I saw Longhair, panting, arm glowing with materia, half-hunched as he stood on the edge of the roof. His gunblade clattered from his hands.

“We’ll go… together…” he groaned as Cloud twisted to look back at the persistent assailant.

“It never _ends_ with you people!” I snarled, grabbing my EMR where it dangled on the strap and engaging it as I swung it up. I sprang running out of my crouch. “Hi- _yaaaa_!”

I heard heavy bootfalls and the scrape of metal on stone behind me, heard Cloud echo my yell with one of his own, and fire exploded within me and without.


	12. Chapter 12

**_Reno—Edge_ **

Unfulfilling dreams. I opened my eyes, refocusing on reality. _Body—check. Brain—working on it. Hey, now. Someone’s been sleeping in my bed…_

I looked down and saw her curled up on my pale chest in the morning light. I smiled without thinking about it, lifting an arm to shove behind my head. She stirred, inhaling, and her breath sighed out across my skin. I shivered. She looked up at me and as soon as she saw me she beamed. Her green eyes sparkled.

“Lyrant!” she said. “What a pleasant surprise.” She meant it, too.

“Can’t get rid of me,” I said, grinning at her. “I’m like a bad penny.”

“Hmm.” She propped herself up on her elbow, chin resting in her palm, and left her other hand right where it was, square in the middle of my breastbone.

“Sleep well?” I said. “No nightmares?”

She shook her head. “None. How are you?” Her hand moved, sliding over me, but didn’t lift away. The absent caress distracted me.

“I’m good,” I said.

She laughed softly. “I know you’re good—how are you feeling?”

I smirked. “Better. I’m pretty beat, though. Taking the day off.”

“You’ve earned it.”

“Damn right! The director’s back, so I don’t have to deal with all that shit anymore.” I tilted my head toward her. “What about you? Are there still people out there with Geostigma? Or did that crap go with Sephiroth?”

She shook her head and sighed, letting her head sink back to my shoulder. “It’s still out there. I really should get up.” She slid her hand all the way across me and curled it around my ribcage. “I don’t want to.”

“Then don’t,” I suggested. “Take a day off. You’ve earned it, too.” I lifted my free arm to settle around the curve her shoulders, marveling that she let me, that she was holding onto me deliberately, and not for heat.

I let my eyes drift across the ceiling of the bedroom of Seventh Heaven, where Cloud and Tifa insisted we bring her, where I had stayed. I’d been so tired I couldn’t think what else to do.

I remembered Cloud frowning at me as I sat down on the edge of the bed and took off my shoes and socks, then my jacket, and started unbuttoning my shirt with a pointed look at him. He strolled off in no particular hurry and shut the door behind him.

I closed my eyes and let yesterday fade some more. “Today I’m just gonna lie here and do nothing.”

I felt her lift her head and shift her weight, as if maybe she was getting up. I prepared for some more serious snooze time.

Lips pressed to mine. My eyes popped open. Hers were shut, so close I couldn’t focus on her face, as she kissed me.

I felt flabbergasted. Thought and reason failed. Her mouth was so soft. Mine opened a little, an automatic response. My eyes slid closed at last just before she pulled back. My head lifted off the pillow to follow. I grabbed her head and pushed her back down for a proper kiss that I was prepared to involve myself in.

Damn, she was a good kisser, too. The second one was even better. Our mouths opened. Her tongue played over my lips and teeth. I slipped mine in her mouth. I wanted her so bad. I’m pretty proud of my restraint that I managed to keep my cool enough to just let my tongue go on an expedition to her tonsils. Panting, I let my head drop back to the pillow and opened my eyes.

Her hand touched my jaw, fingers sliding up to my left-side tattoo. Her eyes were tender. I drew breath, didn’t know what to say and let it out. Her smile faded and she leaned down to kiss me again. And that was the end of my self-restraint.

Her kisses grew urgent. So did mine. I tugged at her clothes. I had a head start on her and a profound need to see some serious skin. She lifted her arms to let me pull off her shirt, then reached behind herself to take off her own bra. Thank god—I don’t know that I could have managed it in my overwhelmed impatient state.

She was bloody gorgeous underneath all those clothes. I resolved to drag her back to the Costa del Sol beach and get her in a bikini. It was unfair that she’d been so cold for the entire four months I’d known her that I never got even a glimpse of the toned lithe form underneath. I’d had to guess what it looked like from the feel of it when we fought. My imagination had failed me, too.

I was so excited by her curves and shapes I decided I wanted maximum possible viewing time of them from then on. I vowed to do everything in my power to make sure she was warm enough to stay nearly naked for me.

I rolled that cute little bod under me and took a good long feel of it. I gave up trying to think and just felt the hell out of what I was feeling. Right up until I frantically had to figure out where I'd thrown my pants in irritation to pluck out a silver-wrapped condom.

It wasn’t long before we were joined. Unfortunately she was tight as a vice, I was eager as a teenager, and her moans only served to incite me to heights of excitement that blew my mind. And my load. I couldn’t help it any more than the scream that erupted from me, nor my defeated collapse on top of her. I gasped in breath. My eyes flew open wide.

_What have I done?_ My lust had overwhelmed me, just like any one of a number of assholes we’d beaten up along her way. I hadn’t thought. I hadn’t pleased her. I feared that in my enthusiasm I’d raped her. I buried my head in the pillow, wishing I could undo all this.

“I… I’m sorry…” I whispered to her, horrified. I rolled off her, unable to meet her eyes, and curled up on my side in the agony of shame.

“Shh.” She kissed between my shoulderblades. Her hands grasped and tugged my arm, forcing me onto my back. I looked up at her in fear. She startled me with a smile. My lips parted. She leaned in and kissed them. She trailed her lush lips across my face to my neck. I shuddered.

“Shh, Lyrant. I’ll take care of everything,” she said, and nibbled my earlobe. She slid on top of me, her hands low.

I frowned in confusion. “What are… _OH_!” I hissed. “Fuuuuck! Unhhh…”

She kissed me and crawled all over me. She used her hands and mouth in innovative ways in unexpected places on my body, pressing fingers into sensitive spots, pinching, sucking, biting, licking spots unexplored by other more single-minded women.

“What are you _doing_ to me?” I said, arching almost completely off the bed.

“It turns you on when we fight,” she murmured, her voice buzzing against my skin. “I can tell. In the right context, pleasure and pain aren’t so unconnected, are they, Reno?”

I whimpered. In just a few tightly-packed moments she’d brought me back to full arousal. She sat up on me, grinning, obviously pleased with herself.

“Where the fuck did you learn to do _that_?” I said in amazement.

She smiled enigmatically. “Lie back and relax.”

I slid my hands behind my head and got comfortable, grinning up at her. I waggled my eyebrows at her, wondering what she had in mind, and if it was anywhere near as mind-blowing as the foreplay.

Wrong.

It was _much_ better. And this time, gloriosky, she screamed right along with me.

**_Schala—Edge_ **

“You awake, Bami?” Reno said softly, spooning me.

“Mm-hmm,” I said.

He slid his thumbs along my arms, quiet for a moment. “Where do you live?”

“Nowhere,” I sighed. “I’m broke and don’t have a job, remember?” I enjoyed the feel of the sun on my face and the man on my back. He was so ungodly hot in both the literal and colloquial sense.

I reveled in the moment, avoiding thoughts of what came next, when post-coital cuddling lost its charm for him and he walked out of my life again. As apprehensive as I felt about the end of this, I still couldn’t regret doing it. I’d enjoyed it more than anything I’d physically felt in quite a long time.

I felt human again, and real and female in ways I’d forgotten. My darkest hedonistic self-destructive years had left me unexpected benefits of skills I needed to seduce and screw the hell out of Reno, and really enjoy myself in the process, for once.

“Well, I have a giant bed at my flat in Healen,” he said, his nervousness too intense for him to fully mask with his too-casual tone. “Stupid not to have you there, don’tcha think? Unless I’m just too much man for you, of course.”

“Just the right amount of man, I think,” I said, casually, so as not to give away how my heart soared and my head spun, suffused with overwhelming excitement and nervousness. I felt excited as a teenager again.

“Mm.” He didn’t even laugh, just squeezed me in his arms. “Then you’d be the first woman enough to take all of me.”

“Yay me.”

He kissed the back of my neck. “Thanks.”

My eyes flitted, not really seeing. He went quiet again.

“Lyrant?” I said.

“Hmm?” He sounded drowsy.

“Never mind.” I snuggled down in his arms.

“No, what?” His voice cleared.

“Well, I was… sort of disappointed,” I said. “When you said ‘woman enough to take all of me’ I thought we were gonna have sex again.”

“You _want_ to?”

“Yeah, but you sound tired…”

He slammed me onto my back and climbed on top of me, grinning like a fox. “Have you forgotten who you’re dealing with?”

“A lazy Turk who’s slacking off?” I said mildly, sticking my hands behind my head to mock him with a sly grin.

“You bitch!” He grabbed my nipples and gave them a vicious twist.

I winced and gasped. “Come on, show me your moves,” I panted, taunting him further. And then I punched him. He reeled. His eyes glittered and he lunged at me.

Much later, lying on my back, I slid under the bed. “Do you know anything about carpentry?” I said.

“Fuck that, I’ll just pay for it,” he mumbled indistinctly. “Will you get your ass back up here? I’m not finished with you yet.”

Thrilled, I complied.

***

I crept downstairs, starving. Seventh Heaven was closed at this hour of the morning, but amiable voices and laughter filled the barroom. I spotted Cloud, Tifa, Cid Highwind, Nanaki, the petite Wuteng girl who’d healed me after my botched confrontation with Sephiroth, the large black man with a metal fist I’d also seen there, and a cartoonish-looking cat. They all clustered around a pair of tables pushed together, lounging.

Cid spotted me and grinned. “Mornin’, sunshine!” Everyone turned to look at me as I reached the bottom stair. I flushed at their stares, though they looked friendly. The confidence I’d felt upstairs with Reno evaporated.

The Wuteng girl giggled.

“Did you…” Tifa began, and hesitated, “…sleep… okay?”

“Or at all?” said the Wuteng girl.

“I did,” I said.

“Can I get you anything?” said Tifa, rising.

“I’m… kind of hungry,” I admitted sheepishly.

“Have a seat, I’ll get you some breakfast,” she said.

“Join us, we won’t bite,” said Cid.

“Thank you.” To Tifa I said, “…Um, could I have some food for Lyrant, too? He’s sleeping, but…”

“Who?” said Tifa.

“L… oh.” I took a seat awkwardly. “Reno. Lyrant’s… a nickname.”

“Oh, barf!” said the Wuteng girl. Everyone glanced at her. “Lyrant’s the Wutain word for fox.”

Cloud abruptly buried his head in his hands. His friends frowned at him with concerned expressions. His shoulders shook. Sudden, helpless laughter leaked out despite his obvious efforts to muffle it. The silent audience stared. His hands dropped from his face as he gave up and cackled, his grin unfamiliar and unexpected.

“I don’t _believe_ I’m seein’ this,” said Cid.

The Wuteng girl whipped out her phone and aimed the camera eye at Cloud, grinning. Everyone looked wholly amused and startled by Cloud’s mirth. A kettle whistled behind the bar, unfreezing Tifa. As last Cloud composed himself and looked up, eyes sparkling as his smile remained.

The Wuteng girl lowered but didn’t close her phone, dialing at the keys. “See what you miss when you leave early, Vinnie? And… send!”

“Copy me on that video, Yuffie, wouldya?” said Cid.

“And me!” piped up the cat.

“Jes’ send us all a copy,” said the black man.

“You got it!” said Yuffie.

Tifa came over with a tray balanced with two plates and a pot of tea. Cloud pushed his chair back and rose as she set my plate in front of me and poured me a cup of tea.

“I’ll take that,” said Cloud, reaching for the tray. “I need a word in private with ‘Lyrant.’”

I watched him go upstairs and out of sight.

**_Reno—Edge_ **

A knock on the door woke me from a sound sleep. My irritation at the loss of a really hot dream and the lack of really hot girl beside me vanished in shock at Cloud’s voice on the other side of the door: “Reno.”

“Just a minute,” I said, hurriedly scrambling around for my clothes. They were still filthy and stained with Schala’s blood, but they were all I had. I made a face at them as I pulled on pants and buttoned up my not-even-close-to-white-anymore shirt. “Yeah, come in,” I called.

The door opened. I grinned at the inexplicable sight on the other side.

“Breakfast in bed? Aw, honey, you shouldn’t have!” I smirked.

Cloud set the tray aside and sat down on the bed beside me, watching me.

“Where’s Bami?” I said, unable to keep an edge from my voice.

He didn’t answer. I flushed as I realized what I’d said.

“I meant Schala,” I said, wondering what he thought of me, if he thought I’d called her by another woman’s name by mistake. I mentally slapped myself. _What do I care what he thinks?_

“Downstairs,” he said. “What are your intentions where she is concerned?”

“What?” I said.

Those Mako-blue no-nonsense eyes stared me down.

I ran a hand through my hair to mask my nervous irritation. “Gee, Strife, I don’t see what business it is of yours what I do.”

“Schala is my friend.” He leaned in and I wished I could lean further away, but the wall was in my way. The room was suddenly not big enough for both of us. Whatever rapport we’d experienced fighting that last silver-haired freak together vanished like a dream. “If you hurt her, I will find you. Got it?”

“Loud and clear,” I said tightly. “I’ve been her friend longer than she even knew who you were, okay? She ain’t Aerith.”

He stood up sharply and I couldn’t help cringing. I wondered if I’d gone too far and was about to find out how hard the man could punch.

“I know,” he said. “She still matters. She’s still a person. So are you.”

I nodded, breaking that dreadful eye contact. “I’m never more aware of that than when I’m with her,” I muttered.

“I’ll remember you said that,” he said, turning to go. “Rude came by and asked about you,” he added over his shoulder as he opened the door. “I said I hadn’t seen you, but he’d have to have been deaf not to hear you.” He shut the door behind him. I stared at it.

_What the hell was that?_ I shook my head. _…On second thought, I’d rather not know._

Breakfast was awesome, but pretty damn lonely. I wondered if Schala’d gone back to healing. I wondered with some irritation and worry whether she’d bothered to eat.

_Gotta keep your strength up, Bami,_ I thought, and grinned to myself. _You’ve gotta keep up with me._

**_Schala—Edge_ **

“What do you see in that guy, anyway?” Yuffie said to me as soon as Cloud had gone. “Reno, I mean.” She made a face.

I sipped my tea, smiling to myself. “Oh… lots.”

“That smug bastard’s pretty full of himself,” said Cid. “You sure you’re not fixin’ to get hurt, darlin’?”

“Man did destroy Sector Seven,” said the black guy, shaking his head with an intense scowl. “Never gonna forgive that prick for what he did to Wedge, Biggs, Jessie and the rest. Blamin’ it on us, too.” He glared at me.

Tifa put a hand on his flesh arm. “We’ve all done things we’re not proud of, Barret.”

I spoke up. “Reno and Rude are trying to atone for their part in what Shinra did. That’s part of what I see in him, both of them really. Admitting one was wrong, taking personal responsibility for the consequences of what one has done, and trying to make up for it—especially when it’s in an order of that magnitude—isn’t something most people can do. Seeing them persevering at seeking redemption inspires me.”

“Do ya work for Shinra?” said the cat sharply, in a bizarre accent.

I shook my head. “They gave me rides around the world so I could reach everyone with Geostigma, but I didn’t want payment for it. I was already planning to do it for free, it was just going to take forever broke and on foot as I was.”

“Wouldya consider working for the WRO?” said the cat.

“Don’t know what that is,” I said.

“The World Regenesis Organization,” said the cat. “I run it. That’s why I canna there in person and had t’send this mechanical cat.”

“That and fightin’ rumples your suits,” muttered Barret.

“The name’s Reeve Tuesti,” said the cat. “You’re welcome to call my office anytime. We’d be happy to have you, lass.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I would like to get a job so I’m not just leeching off Reno, but I’ll probably want to get one in Healen if I can.”

“Well, our door’s always open to ya if you change your mind,” said Reeve.

Cloud clomped back downstairs, taking the steps two at a time.

“What did you say to him?” I asked.

He glanced at me, then past me. “Yuffie. What does ‘Bami’ mean?”

I caught my breath and felt cold wash through me. _They’re not going to understand… he doesn’t mean it like it sounds…_

“‘Little dragon,’” said Yuffie.

My mouth fell open. Cloud strode to the bar, leaned on it and howled with laughter, head bent. The entire room joined in. I flushed and shoved my chair back. I abandoned my breakfast, ran upstairs and flung open the door.

Reno jumped, sitting crosslegged on the bed with the tray balanced on his lap. He had frozen mid-chew, mouth full.

“You _ass_!” I said, slamming the door. “You told me ‘Bami’ meant ‘bitch’!” I strode forward and grabbed the tray from him, slamming it down on the nighttable.

He swallowed, frowning. “No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did! The first time you called me that I asked you what it meant and you said, ‘Wutain for ‘bitch’!’”

His eyes roved. “…Oh. So I did.” He fixed his panicked gaze on me. He threw up his hands. “It was a joke! Can’t you take a joke?”

I straddled his lap, grabbed his wrists and slammed them to the wall over his head. He looked uncertain.

“This _entire_ time I thought you were calling me ‘bitch,’” I said. “It sort of hurt, Lyrant.”

“I’m sorry,” he said contritely. “I’m really sorry. You should have said.”

“Yes. I should have,” I said. “Why ‘little dragon’? My temper?”

“No… ’cause you’re miraculous, guarded and need to be kept warm all the time. That’s all, Schala. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I swear!”

I leaned in and bit his neck. He sucked in a sharp breath. I loved the way his body heaved under mine. I sucked on the skin under my lips and pulled back, still holding him pinned. He yelped in pain before his skin parted from my teeth. When he saw my grin he produced a smug one of his own.

“You’re going to make me pay, aren’t you?” he said.

“You want me to, don’t you?” I countered.

“Yes, _please_ , Bami!” he said.

I surveyed him, unbuttoning his shirt. “God damn, you are so beautiful.”

He actually blushed. “Yeah… well… you really think so?”

I boggled at him. “Oh, come on, you know you are!”

“Well, _yeah_ , I just…” He looked away. “I didn’t know _you_ thought I was.”

I let go of his wrists. “No, you really didn’t, did you?”

His hands settled around my hips and gazed up at me. “Bami, I had no fucking clue. Do you know how nuts you made me? How horny you made me? How desperately I controlled myself every night to force myself not to touch you inappropriately while I kept you warm?”

I smiled and reached up to cup his face, stroking those adorable tattoos with my thumbs. “Thank you. Touch away, Lyrant.” I leaned in and kissed his mouth. He slid his hands up my back, taking my shirt with them.

He kissed my neck, breathless. “Aren’t you supposed to be making me pay for my mistakes, huh?”

“I will, I will,” I moaned. “Just fuck me, please, Reno. I can’t stand it. I want you inside of me.”

“Yes ma’am!” He tossed me on my back and granted my request with considerable vigor.

**_Reno—Edge_ **

“Stop that,” I growled, watching Schala get dressed. She’d washed our clothes while I dozed, apparently.

She glanced over at me where I lay on my stomach, furled in the covers. She looked apologetic. “I’m sorry. There are still sick people who suffer while I’m here with you.”

“Well, I suffer when you’re not,” I snapped. “Doesn’t that matter?”

She sat down on the bed to tie her shoes. I snaked an arm around her waist and dragged her down into my clutches. She writhed. I pulled her under me and nuzzled her neck. She made one of those shaky little noises I liked so much.

“I’m happy you feel that way,” she said. “Thing is, you’ll live, and many others won’t. It’s just temporary, Lyrant. Two weeks at most, and then you won’t be able to get rid of me. …Ohh… _god_ … Reno, no fair…”

I grinned and didn’t stop what my hands were doing. “C’mon, please, just one more time.”

“That’s what you said last time…” she breathed. “Hunhhh… oh, fuck it!” She rolled me under her and took over, which thrilled me.

Afterward, I watched her dressing again, even less happy. I glared at her clothes, chewing my lip.

“Cloud gonna look after you while I’m gone?” I said, not as lightly as I’d wanted.

“Yeah, probably.” She sat on the floor to put on her shoes this time, out of arm’s reach.

“You two got awfully friendly while I was off dealing with Shinra shit,” I said.

She frowned up at me. “You’ve got to be kidding me—you’re jealous of _Cloud_?”

I sat up angrily. “And why not?” I seethed. “Fucker defeated Sephiroth and saved the world _twice_. Everyone on the planet thinks he’s hot shit. Wipe that smug little grin off your face before I do it for you!”

She giggled. “I can’t help it, you’re angry when you’re beautiful.” She strode over to the bed and leaned in to kiss me. I didn’t play this time, too upset.

“He ain’t bad-lookin’, either,” I said when she let me go.

“Oh, my god! Reno!” She clutched the back of my head and gave me a really searing kiss, swaying into me. I grabbed her and held on for dear life.

She let my lips go and put her forehead against mine, staring into my eyes with what looked like one huge blue one. “You don’t get it, do you? It’s been seven years since I’ve even wanted anyone. I didn’t think I ever would again, after my husband died.”

“You… _what_?! You’re… you were…” My brain spun and hurt.

“Widowed. Yes. I have more cause to worry than you, anyway. Your beauty is beyond reason, and you know it. What’s to stop you getting bored waiting for me, huh?”

I shoved her off me and swung out of the other side of bed, too furious to even look at her. I stomped over to the window to give my eyes something else to point at. “If you’re gonna go, go!” I snarled. I felt her hand on my shoulder and shrugged it violently off.

“Can you help me understand why you’re so scared?” she said.

“I’m _not_ scared!” I whirled to her, my face hot. “You get on my nerves sometimes, you really do! Maybe this isn’t such a good idea!”

She backed off, blinking, and turned away from me. I felt my chest seize. I grabbed her arm.

“No… please…” I said pathetically. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”

She didn’t pull away, nor did she face me. I came up behind her and looped my arms around her.

“I just… I don’t like not being around you, and I hate that,” I said. “I used to get along just fine before I met you. Now… I feel all kindsa shit I’m not used to. I don’t wanna go back… but I don’t wanna be like this, either.”

She twitched in my arms. I kissed the back of her sweet little neck. Something dripped on my arm.

“Oh, hell,” I sighed and forced her to turn around. Her eyes were shut tight, trying to dam the flow. I cuddled her under my chin. “Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me.”

She didn’t put her arms around me, just stood there and wept. “This… isn’t easy for me either,” she whispered. “When… when I saw those men beating up you and Rude… I don’t know that I’ve ever been more enraged and scared in my life. I had to watch my husband die of a terrible illness, and there was nothing I could do to save him. I don’t ever want to go through that again.”

I tightened my arms. “I know what you mean… when you were shish kabob on the Masamune, I lost it.” I pulled back and shook her shoulders. “What the hell were you thinking, anyway?! Attacking Sephiroth, _unarmed_?”

“I didn’t know who he was. Even if I had… he was a threat to this world, one that had to be defeated one way or another.” She looked up at me, her lashes wet and sticking together.

“Fuck that noise!” I said. “Don’t you ever go after a guy with a big sword again! I nearly lost both you _and_ Rude day before yesterday!”

Her eyes widened. “Rude? Is he okay?”

“Yeah, of course he’s okay, he’s Rude. He got knocked out of the chopper by one of those tools on bikes. Managed to hang on, but that broke me too. In all the time we spent chasing Sephiroth two years ago I don’t think either of us ever got that close to death. …What?”

Her mouth and eyes were wide. “You were in the chopper that _crashed_?!”

I rubbed the back of my neck, sheepish. “Don’t remind me. We fell out before the fireball.”

She covered her face with her hands and burst into fresh sobs.

I winced. “Hey, hey, come on!” I awkwardly drew her back into my arms. She pounded her fist into my chest. “Ow, hey!”

Then she clutched me, so hard she nearly squeezed the life out of me. “Son of a bitch,” she whispered near my ear. “You could have died! Does this happen often in your line of work?”

“Er… sometimes,” I said nervously. “But I’ve survived a lot!”

“That doesn’t mean you always will!” She shoved me off her and gave me a fierce glare. “Remember thirty seconds ago, how pissed you were about me taking on Sephiroth by myself? Imagine I feel that way about your life being put in danger—only more so, because I know exactly how life-destroying and sanity-ending it is to watch someone I love die!”

Felt better even than that hot ego-injection of being praised by the president, better than kicking the ass of someone more powerful than me, better even than mind-blowing sex. I swept her up in my arms and spun her around, joy bubbling out of me.

“You love me!” I gasped. “Holy mother of fuck, _yesss_!” I plonked her back on the ground. I grabbed and kissed her salty face, overflowing with enthusiasm. She kissed back, but not with my speed and intensity.

“You _gorgeous_ little Bami!” I hissed into her neck. I pulled back to look in her eyes. “That means you’re gonna come back to me, right? ’Cause you can’t stand to be away from me either?”

“Lyrant, I’m _wrecked_ without you. When I thought I wasn’t going to see you again I didn’t care if I died,” she said.

I tightened my grip on her. “No. Don’t you do that to me, you told me yourself you know how that hurts. You just fucking come back to me, all right? You promise?”

She beamed at me. “I promise.”

“Good. God damn!” I released her and swept my hair out of my eyes, wondering where my shades had got to. “Now go, woman, before I change my mind and try to fuck you again!”

She giggled and leaned in for a kiss. I reared back, even though it pained me to do so.

“Don’t make this harder!” I said.

“Gotcha.” She snickered again, heading for the door.

“Not funny!” I dropped on the bed with a whump.

“Yes, it is.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“You wish.” She glanced slyly over her shoulder at me as she opened the door. That did it. That look so like the one after our fight outside Fort Condor. I launched at her. Quick as a flash she was out the door and slammed it in my face. I leaned my forehead against it and howled with frustration. I heard her laughing all the way down the hall, the bitch.

Still I couldn’t get rid of my idiotic grin. _She_ loves _me! …Of course she does, how could she_ not _?_

I jumped in the shower and sang my fuckin’ heart out. I put on my clothes and thundered downstairs whistling. I stopped in my tracks, staring at the unexpected sight of my partner and Tifa having tea at the bar.

“Hey, Rude!” I cried, rushing up to give him a hearty whack on the shoulder. “How’s it hangin’, buddy?”

He gave me an enigmatic half-grin. “Afternoon. Enjoy your day off, partner?”

I smirked. “You know it! What’s on the agenda today?”

He slid a small black lacquered box across the counter toward me.

“Dude, you’re so thoughtful, but I don’t wear jewelry.” I popped open the box, already knowing from the size what it was. My brand-new shiny PHS waited inside. My face fell. “Man, not even a newer model…?” I fished out the small card and flipped it over:

  
_Temper, temper.  
Nice job.  
—Tseng_   


I grinned and slipped phone and card in my pocket. “Thanks for covering for me, man,” I said to Rude.

He shrugged and dropped some gil on the counter. “That’s what partners are for. …Good to see you again,” he said to Tifa.

I snapped my fingers and dug into my pocket, then passed over a significant chunk of change to Tifa. “Here, buy a new bed. Or fix the old one, I don’t care. Thanks for letting her stay.” I grinned at her widening eyes.

“Now we just gotta get you a girl,” I said to Rude as we strolled out into the streets of Edge. For a city that had been under siege from a particularly nasty form of Bahamut, zombification of children, and silver-haired psychos two days ago, everything seemed run-of-the-mill. These people were used to soldiering on in the wake of disasters.

“Lotta women out there freed up, what with me off the market,” I said. “Brokenhearted, in need of consoling, and all that shit. Ripe for the picking, my friend. Ripe for the picking.”

“Can’t wait,” said Rude, dripping sarcasm.

I ignored him. I’m good at this—years of practice. _Nothing’s gonna get me down today!_ “Yep. Life is _good_.”


End file.
